The Thief in the Garage
by Lilith626
Summary: Ex-insurance agent turned thief, Nathan Ford, calls upon an associate from his insurance days, Dr. Temperance Brennan, to help him find the truth of what happened in the bombing which may have costed him the life of his teammate/friend. Crossover.
1. Chapter 1

Nate sat at stool at McRory's staring down the glass of scotch that taunted him. It was becoming a Sunday ritual between jobs after giving the crew the weekend off. 'How very Catholic of you' he heard Eliot say in his ear, but when he didn't have anything else to do; anything else to focus on, that sweet nectar kept him going from one minute to the next. Just as Nate was about the take a sip his cell phone rang, he looked down, startled by the number on the other end.

"Ford." He answered wearily.

"Mr. Ford, this is detective Captain Bonanno."

"What can I do for you?" Nate asked the detective who he had a growing respect for at the Boston Police Station.

"Actually, um… this is about a call I took this morning. I'm at the sight of a crime scene and I need you to come down to answer some questions."

"Is someone in my crew in trouble?" Nate leaped to question. "Whatever it is I'll take care of it just…"

"It's not that." Bonanno cut him off. "Meet me at 1526 Weir Ave and I'll fill you in."

Nate's heart dropped as the address was given. "Is he okay?"

"Nathan…"

"Just tell me!" Nate demanded.

"The remains are unidentifiable; I can't answer that question with any certainty."

"I'll be there in ten minutes." Nate responded softly before ending the call.

"Is everything okay?" The bartender asked him.

Nate downed the drink in front of him. "No." He answered before leaving the bar and jumping into his cherry Tesla. He spent the drive trying desperately to think of all the viable possibilities and talking himself out of believing the most likely. He couldn't; he couldn't if he wanting to see straight, if he was going to be any help at all in the investigation. He knew he was getting close when he saw the flashing lights from probably ever squad car in Boston.

"Excuse me, sir. This is a crime scene." An officer stopped Nate as he made his way up the driveway that was tagged off with caution tape.

"I know, I…" Nate struggled to talk.

"He's with me." Bonnano called out to the new recruit working on crowd control in what was supposed to be a secluded part of town.

"Okay, go ahead." He invited the man. Nate stalked up with his eyes fixated on the mangled truck that had blown up inside the attached garage. The door had only gotten half way up before the explosion stopped the progression.

"What happened?" Nate asked holding off tears.

"We've been asking the neighbors but nobody seems to have seen anything. There was a storm early this morning which probably masked the sounds. Based on the evidence we speculate he was hit by the bullet of a sharpshooter, tried to escape through the garage, but…"

"The bomb under his car prevented that from happening." Nate inferred the rest.

"CSI is in the house collecting evidence; there's a decent amount of blood to draw a DNA sample to compare to what we have on file to verify identity."

"You said 'the remains'…" Nate swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Were pretty much eradicated in the explosion; they're no way to compare dental records… Mr. Ford, where are you going?" Bonanno asked Nate as he moved closer to the garage. "Nate, you do not…"

Nate stepped inside the garage to take in the damage; bone fragments were thrown about and there was nothing that even remotely resembled a human skull. "Nathan…"

"I need to know." Nate whispered.

"As soon as we get that DNA sample, I swear…"

"No; I need to know that this is…" Nate struggled to finish the sentence. "I know someone; she's helped me verify artifacts in past and works closely with the FBI in Washington DC."

"Okay, I can… I can work something out." Bonanno assured him after all the help Nate's team had given him. "Make the call."

The mastermind nodded as it appeared he was still in some kind of state of shock. He dialed the number and patiently waited for an answer. "I need to speak to Doctor Temperance Brennan." He responded to the answer. "Do you know when she's going to be back?" He questioned. "No, that's okay, I'll… I'll try her on her cell."

"No luck?" Bonanno questioned as soon as Nate hung up.

"She's giving a lecture at Boston University." Nate responded before placing the next call.


	2. Chapter 2

Temperance had just stepped off the podium when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

"Hang on, Booth, I have to take this." She said as her partner went to guide her out to the vehicle. It had been ages since she had seen that name pop up on her caller ID. "Dr. Brennan."

"Temperance it's Nathan… Ford. I need your help with something and heard you were in town."

"You're back in Boston? Of course you are." She corrected herself. "What can I help you with?"

"I'd like you to identify some remains. They've been badly burnt and literally blown to pieces."

"I've worked with worse. Have they been tampered with?" Brennan asked him.

"No; I'm at the scene now. There's a CSI unit but nothings been moved."

"Okay, give me the address and I'll be right there." She responded jotting down the number given.

"What was that all about?" Booth asked her as she veered towards the parking lot.

"A new case." She responded. "A past associate, or friend, or something, whatever, he asked me to help me identify a bombing victim. It's right here in Boston. Just plug this address into your GPS."

"Whoa, hold up. What do we actually know about this case?" Booth questioned her.

"I know that the Boston police department is on the scene now so if we're going to get the remains before they've been compromised we need to get going." Brennan urged.

"Did you ask what this friend of yours is doing at a crime scene?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't see how that's important." She answered plainly.

"Bones, we've been working together how long? And you still don't see it?"

"See what?"

"Oh, never mind." Booth pulled the car out of park. "Who is this friend of yours and how do you know him?"

"His name is Nathan Ford; he's an insurance agent, or he was one. He left his job a few years back. We met at a banquet held at the Smithsonian and got to talking about artifacts and I let him know that if he needed help verifying the authenticity to call me."

"You and him hit it off really well then?" Booth suggested.

"Well, yeah. He's pleasant to talk to; smart, not genius… actually his IQ is probably close to mine; his aptitude is putting together metaphorical pieces of a puzzle, and he's better at it than anyone I've ever met. Better than you, in fact."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, it is." She said assuredly.

"Then why is it that's asking for my help in solving this crime?"

"He's not. He's asking for mine." Brennan corrected him.

"Right." Booth sighed. "I'm just along for the ride."

"Technically you're the one driving so it wouldn't be…"

"Yeah, I got it Bones. So, how close did you get to this genius Ford guy? Any romps in the Egyptian display?"

"What? No. Our friendship was merely platonic. Even if I had seen him in a sexual manner he was very committed to a monogamous relationship with his wife."

"Oh, so he's married." Booth responded sounding almost a tad relieved.

XXXXX

After ending the call Nate circled around to the inside of the house to see where the bullet entered through the window; perfectly adjacent was a splatter of blood on the wall and floor indicative of a through and through shot.

"Has the bullet been located?" Nate asked the inspectors who pointed to a plastic bag.

"Mr. Ford." Bonanno spoke to him as he glanced down at the tiny piece of metal. "You can't be here right now. If you'll just come outside…"

Nate followed him silently taking a couple steps out the door before feeling his legs start to give out on him. The detective caught him and assisted him to the ground before falling to tears on the front steps.

"Nate; I'm so sorry. We're going to do everything we can to find out who did this. It would help if you could provide me a list of people who may want Mr. Spencer dead."

Nate chuckled to the request as silent tears fell down his face. "I can try, but there's no way I can provide a comprehensive one."

"Anything you can provide will be good."

Nate nodded; regaining some composure he stood up to see Temperance getting out of the car.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Thank you for those who have started reviewing and posted the story to favorites or alerts. I do not own either Leverage nor Bones, nor any of those characters. Please enjoy, and bare with me, things aren't always what they seem.**

xxxxxx

"Temperance…" Nate ran up to meet her.

"Nate, this is my partner Special Agent Seeley Booth. I don't mean to cut the reunion, but which way to the remains?"

Nate pointed to the garage. "Didn't you want to know…?"

"I'd rather my initial examination be unbiased." Dr. Brennan interrupted him. That was definitely the Temperance that he knew; completely rational and objective, and that was exactly what he needed. He needed the facts; he needed the truth.

"So what do we got?" Booth stayed back to ask the Captain while Nate hung around for assistance.

"The property and vehicle are both registered to a Marcus Carter, an employee of Leverage Consulting, Inc. run by Nathan Ford here." Bonanno answered him.

"Leverage Consulting, what is that?" Booth asked him.

"It's a service for the community to assist people that have been victimized." Nate answered.

"Are you lawyers? Private investigators?"

"Of sorts." Nate replied vaguely. "Look, Agent Booth…"

"_Special_ Agent." He clarified.

"Okay, _Special_ Agent, we help people get back a little something that they've lost and gain some control usually over some executive that exploits people because they have the money and power to do so. Yes, we've made a lot of enemies with some high profile and dangerous people, and that doesn't even begin to describe number of enemies made before he joined up with Leverage."

"I'm going to take a couple leaps here; you're method of 'helping people' it's not exactly on the up and up, is it?"

"They've done a lot of good in this town, Booth." Bonanno cut in.

With that Booth already had his answer. "Marcus Carter is not his actual name."

"No, it's not." Nate answered. "The alias was a means of a safety precaution."

"Apparently, not a very good one."

The look of pure anguish that washed over Nate's face made Booth take a step back. "That's what I'm asking Temperance to verify." Nate stated in reply.

"Hey; I'm sorry if I… what do we have here?"

"According to our team a single shot was fired from TCI M89 rifle; based on the height of the blood stain on the wall the best guess is it went through the victim's shoulder causing him to drop down and crawl towards the garage in attempts to make a get away. Unfortunately the vehicle had already been tampered with."

"Israeli military issued sniper rifle." Booth commented. "Any clue who may have been able to get their hands on that?"

"Anyone on ebay?" Nate questioned.

"May I?" Booth asked the Captain's permission to examine the crime scene. Bonanno graciously offered him a tour through the premises.

The layout was open with a fully functioning kitchen with top of the line appliances and marble countertops to the left, next to a simple dinning room table which walked straight ahead into a living area with a leather sofa and matching lounge seat. The entertainment center was a simple shelving unit holding a high quality stereo system with numerous CDs arranged by genre, most of which country or country rock. Above the sofa was a signed guitar by someone unknown to Booth. From the living room was a sliding glass door which opened to an organic garden with just about every fresh vegetable and herb imagined as well as fruit trees that served to fence off his yard.

"Has the team figured the location of the shooter?" Booth asked staring at the shattered glass from the patio. Being in that space he could see exactly how it went down with a bowl of oatmeal and blueberries still sitting at the table.

"For all I know it was shot from one of the trees." Bonanno shrugged; besides other houses in the area there didn't seem to be anything else around.

"Is this the victim?" Booth asked taking down a picture from the entertainment center.

"Alleged victim, yeah." Bonanno clarified.

There was something very familiar about the man's eyes and smile; although the hair threw him off. "Spencer." Booth stated as the same time Bonanno mentioned "Eliot Spencer."

"You knew him?" Bonanno asked the FBI agent who nodded.

"We were in basic together; kind of. God, he was just a kid." Booth recalled the eighteen-year-old urban cowboy eager to join the forces despite his distaste for guns. From basic Eliot trained for Special Ops POW retrieval missions whereas Booth went the route of a sniper. In that moment, somehow the case got a little too real.

"Special Agent Booth…?"

"Um… how well acquainted are you with Mr. Ford? I'm having a hard time reading the guy." Booth hated admitting.

"I think that picture right there is everything you need to know." Bonanno pointed to a framed photo of the team. "They may be co-workers but sometimes when you're working closely as a team…"

"They become an extension of your own family." Booth interrupted knowing that feeling well; although he would never tell the 'squints' that.

"Or in this case the only family they really have. Nathan Ford's life was torn apart with the loss of his only son; he left his job, his marriage dissolved; this cause has been the only thing keeping him going. That girl, Parker, was pushed through the foster system so many times she never developed a last name… they are each other's family."

"Is he too close to be objective?" Booth then questioned.

"I've already been through the worse pain a human can feel." Nate said standing in the doorway. "What I need now is the truth."

"Then you've come to the right source." Brennan came up from behind him. "I've done all I can do here. I've asked that the remains be shipped to the Jeffersonian as well as any particulates and evidence taken from the scene."

"What do you find?" Nate asked her.

"At this point all I can tell you is Caucasian male in his mid-thirties; height between 5'9"-5'10". I'm going to have to do a full facial reconstruction in order to give a positive identification."

"How long do you think that'll take?" Nate asked her.

"It'll be shipped to DC immediately and will be my first priority. Nate, if you have any doctor reports or documentation of any injuries…"

"There won't be anything officially on file, but I can tell you he's sustained multiple injuries with many obtained through torture." He explained which caused Booth to twinge slightly although not the least bit surprised.

"Mr. Ford can you be available for later questioning?" Booth asked him.

Nate nodded. "I, um… will get to DC as soon as I can; I just need to do something first."

"Understood." Booth responded. There was something about the knowledge that he was a father, and friend to Spencer, that warmed him up to Nate immediately.

"Nate, it's good to see you again. I'm sorry it had to be like this, but I can promise you that I can give you the truth."

"Yeah, she's the best at it." Booth offered a reassuring smile.

"We're the best at it. At the lab we can determine the who, what, where, when, and how but Booth, here, he's a master at discovering the why."

"Thanks Bones." He acknowledged the compliment.

"You're welcome, you are, you know. Is everything okay?"

"I just really want to get to solving this case." He responded which Nate was more than happy to hear.

"Special agent…"

"You can call me Booth."

Nate shook his head. "I will get that list to you; any and all enemies that I am aware of."

"As soon as you can." Booth instructed.


	4. Chapter 4

"How did it go?" The bar manager asked as Nate took his stool. The bar manager was taking stock of his inventory before it could official open for the public.

"Scotch, make it a double." Nate responded.

"That well?"

"You call me down here on our day off to watch you get drunk?" Sophie questioned coming in.

Nate glanced over to her with a grief struck expression. "You should probably sit down."

"What if I don't want to?" Her voice wavered.

"Soph, please."

She nodded slightly and pulled out a stool. "Which one?"

"Nothing has been proven." He responded quietly.

"Which. one?" She repeated.

"Captain Bonanno called me to assist with the investigation of a car bomb; the remains were burnt beyond recognition, but the vehicle belonged to Eliot."

"Where?" She questioned allowing silent tears to fall.

"His main residence." Nate answered knowing the hitter had at least two safe houses within 100 mile radius. "The garage. A sniper got a shot off on him while he was apparently sitting down for breakfast, maybe three o'clock in the morning… of course if you only sleep 90 minutes a day…" He rambled hoping that it would make it easier to say out loud.

"Nate…" Sophie grabbed his hand with hers to offer some support as he took a drink.

"He tried to escape; get to safety, but… it was probably pressure sensitive. Nobody in the area saw or heard anything."

"How do we prove? I mean, do we have dental records?" Sophie asked not sure if she wanted the actual answer.

Nate shook his head. "The skull was destroyed. I called in the favor of a friend, a forensic anthropologist, who's going to do a reconstruction to verify the identity. She's bringing the evidence to the lab now."

"The lab is where, exactly?"

"Washington DC." Nate answered. "I already booked myself a flight to go down there to aide in the investigation, but I thought you should know first."

"I'm going with." She stated before allowing herself to break down. Nate wrapped his arms around her as she leaned in sobbing on his shoulder.

"Soph, I need you to take care of the others." He whispered stroking her hair giving her that time to break.

"Who died in here?" Hardison questioned sarcastically with Parker at his side. He had convinced her to go to breakfast with him when they got the call. When both teammates looked back it him with puffy eyes he's demeanor suddenly turned serious. "Okay, seriously, who died?"

"Where's Eliot?" Parker questioned quietly.

"There's something I need to tell the both…"

"No." Parker shook her head. "No! It's not true! It can't…"

"Parker…" Nate responded; his tone meaning to sooth, but only suggested that she was right. He started to explain, but the young thief didn't want to hear it.

"No." She cried and ran through the door. Hardison stood shocked; part of him wanted to race after her, another part needed to hear what happened, but mostly he was just paralyzed from reacting.

XXXXX

"You've been awfully quiet." Brennan observed after the hour and a half flight back to DC.

"It's not him." Booth stated.

"I'm not prepared to make that conclusion." Brennan responded.

"That's fine, do your thing, but I'm telling you that's not Spencer."

"You don't want it to be Spencer, do you? You knew him." Although most social cues were typically lost on her, she had been working close enough to Booth to be able to pick up on when a case hit particularly home, and he was giving all the 'tells' that this was personal.

"I knew an eighteen-year-old boy named Eliot Spencer who joined the military to make a difference; be a man. He was everything the US Government could ever ask for in a soldier except the inability to be controlled; he did things his way, if it meant extra push-ups, he didn't give a shit." Booth described. "We were on the same base as he was going through basic training; we'd hang out in the mess hall and just BS; sneak out and pick girls on the weekend. That guy as your wing man and you couldn't miss, swear to God. I think it's something about that Southern drawl."

"From an Anthropological standpoint the Southern culture has a tradition of chivalry that women find endearing. The accent itself can offer the sense of security."

"Is that right? Is that the same 'culture' that gave us Jeff Foxwothy's 'you might be a redneck?' routine?"

"I don't know what that means." She responded.

"Of course not." Booth replied. "Let's just get you back to the lab so we can find out what actually happened."

"Is this a gut thing? Because you know how I feel about…"

"It's not a gut thing." He responded pulling his vehicle out of the airport parking lot. "Why the shoulder?"

"I don't know what you're asking."

"An expert sharpshooter doesn't hit to wound."

"That's presuming the person hired to take out the victim was an expert." Brennan argued.

"You don't go after someone with the skill of Spencer without being an expert; and you certainly don't have the foresight to plant a bomb under his car if you're not one."

"Or whoever planted the bomb knew that they only needed him to believe he was under attack in order to draw him into the vehicle." Brennan deduced.

"No." Booth shook his head. "The bomb was means of covering the identity."

"It sounds to me you're making a lot of presumptions because you don't want to admit that your old buddy could be dead."

"It's not a matter of what I want, or even what my gut is telling me, logically…"

"Based on the evidence at the scene the rational conclusion is that whoever was shot in that living room ended up in that garage. So unless Spencer had a house guest staying at his residence while he was away the only logical assumption is that the remains found are his."

"So why reconstruct the skull?" Booth asked angrily.

"Because Nate asked me to, and because I don't make assumptions, logical or not; I let the evidence solve the problem. Booth, if you're too close to this…"

"I'm not." He insisted pulling up to the Jeffersonian to let her off.

"You're not coming in?"

"No; you go ahead. I want to see what records the FBI has on the assumed victim that aren't sealed away in the highly classified section." Booth responded.


	5. Chapter 5

Booth sat down at his desk and immediately picked up the picture he had of him and Parker, his eight-year-old little boy. He couldn't imagine what dimension of hell he'd be living in if anything were to happen to that kid.

"What can I help you with?" He asked the figure standing over him.

"Oh no; I believe the more appropriate question is what can I do to assist you?" The man threw down a file. "James Sterling, INTERPOL."

Booth picked up the file and started rifling through it before tossing it back. There was something about this Sterling guy, and his sudden knowledge of the case in hand that made the agent skeptical. "What does this mean to me?"

"No need to play dense with me; we both know you are currently investigating this man's supposed murder." Sterling took the seat in front of the FBI agent. "We also know that anything the FBI has on him is going to be locked away in the corner of the top shelf of a highly secured vault wrapped in so much red tape that your boss', boss' boss won't be able to get his hands on it."

"Her." Booth smirked as he corrected the guy. "And I really don't appreciate the implication of my mental acuity."

"No offense intended, Special Agent Booth. Spencer has been a person of interest at Interpol for quite some time. Don't let Ford's sad little story fool you…"

"There you go again; insulting my intelligence."

"They're con men; thieves, all of them. Spencer is the worse; he's dangerous. Truth be told, I hope those remains belong to him, but I'm not stupid enough to believe that if someone could find a way out, it's Spencer, which makes me wonder what rock he climbed under."

"You seem to know a lot about a case that has yet to get out to the public. Tell me, Mr. Sterling, right?"

"Agent." Sterling corrected him.

"What's your personal interest in this 'supposed murder'?"

"Why? Am I a suspect?"

"I don't know, are you? Look, I appreciate the olive branch of cooperation between agencies, but I haven't heard of an… Eliot Spencer." Booth read off the chart. "The house/car was registered to a Marcus Carter, if you have any information…"

"Is that really how you want to play this?" Sterling shook his head and handed him a card. "I'll leave you the file; may come in handy. Call me when you need my help."

"I'll make sure to do that." Booth assured him; staring down the guy as he left the office as cocky as he walked in. He hated that the presumption in a person, but as soon as he was out of eyesight Booth picked up Spencer's file to get more information. Based on what he read the Interpol agent was right. The person the file described wasn't the kid he knew; this guy was colder, more controlled; he took the training he had received as a soldier and used it for his own personal gain, legal or otherwise. He was wanted in 5 different countries, in areas that had little respect for the US Constitution's 'no cruel and unusual punishment' law; countries that this Interpol agent would have no trouble selling him off to.

XXXXX

"Daisy, I need you to construct this skeleton and catalogue all injuries sustained; healed or otherwise." Brennan ordered her assistant. "Hodgins, there's fibers on the bullet. Compare that to any particulates you can take that from the remains."

"And if there aren't any particulates?" Jack Hodgins asked looking at the horribly disfigured pile of bones on the table.

"There's always… Find some." Brennan ordered.

"Whoa, hold on there. If anyone is going to take that tone around here, it's me." Cam walked into the lab. "So, what do we got here?"

"Car bombing victim; the Massachusetts state police believe that the victim was shot prior to crawling to his vehicle which was rigged with an explosive. There was DNA evidence left on the scene. You can compare that to a chunk of hair taken from the assumed victim's hair brush."

"Can I? Really?" She asked sarcastically.

Brennan took a breath as she realized the woman was asserting her authority. "Would you, please?"

"Does this have something to do with the man that was asking for you this morning?" Daisy asked picking up the damaged remains. "I didn't get a name, but he said he had your personal number."

"Yes; it does. He asked me, personally, to identify the body and solve this case. I would like to do this without bias, so if we could please look at the evidence in front of us instead of the story the state police will most likely spin I'd appreciate it." She appealed to the group.

"You suspect a cover up, don't you?" Hodgins grinned.

"I didn't say…"

"What would you like me to do?" Angela asked her.

"I'm going to work on piecing the skull together. While I'm doing so I was hoping you could use the largest chunk to rule out the suspected victim." Brennan handed her a small piece of bone.

"That's not much to go on." Angela replied until Brennan handed over a photo. "I'll see what I can do."

"Do we have any remnants of the bomb?" Hodgins asked her. "After I compare fibers I can see what I can do about identifying the type of explosive; it might help locate the perp."

"Over there." She pointed to a case full of bagged evidence. "But first…"

"Priority is identifying the victim." Cam concurred.

XXXXX

Sophie left Nate to tell Hardison while following her instincts in order to locate Parker on the roof of the building. She was curled up in a corner with her cell phone in hand.

"Eliot, it's Parker, please, when you get this, call me. I know you might be in some kind of trouble, but I need to hear your voice, so please…" The thief begged.

"Parker." Sophie knelt down and took the phone from the girls hand as she sobbed.

"He's not…" Parker cried and allowed Sophie to place her arms around her.

"We don't know for sure."

"I do; he can't. I can't…" Parker replied.

"Honey, I know. I know." The older woman comforted her. "Did it ring?"  
"Straight to voicemail." Parker pulled away avoiding eye contact with the grifter afraid to face the truth. "He could have turned it off, or maybe it got damaged in the escape; that's why he hasn't contacted us."

"Maybe." Sophie nodded in agreement, but more likely his cell was somewhere in his home, a jacket or pant pocket.

"He wouldn't let us believe he was gone unless it was to protect us."

"No; no, he wouldn't."

"He does that; he protects us. That has to be it; if we can find out who is after him then Nate can come up with a plan to take them down and he can come back."

Sophie tried holding in her own tears as she nodded.

"Eliot is probably trying on his own right now." She postulated further.

"Nate has a friend who is going to help us find out what happened; who was responsible."

"The cops?" Parker questioned.

"FBI." Sophie answered. "It's okay, Eliot doesn't have any pending charges on US soil. All they want to do is find him."

"How can I help?" Parker asked, finally looking up with her bloodshot eyes.

"I don't know, sweetie. I don't think there's anything… except help Nate come up with a list of enemies to bring with him to DC."

Parker nodded; trying to think back to old cases and stories he had told her. "I want to go with."

"We all do, but um… that's probably not the best idea." Sophie responded thinking back to charges the rest of them may have against them.

"I don't have anything; I don't get caught." Parker understood the hesitation; besides, she had to go, she had to know for sure. She was sure that if she could see what was left, be in the vicinity, she'd know without a shadow of a doubt.


	6. Chapter 6

"Bones." Booth walked into limbo attempting to catch her attention as she focused her efforts on putting the skull together with headphones distracting her from the outside world. "Bones!"

"What?" She reacted startled by his waving hand.

"How is it coming?"

"Well, it'd be coming along better if you didn't interrupt me to ask me how it's coming." She responded before seeing the look of hurt in his eyes. "Sorry, did you find out anything?"

"More than I'd ever want to know; I just don't know how much is particularly useful." Booth admitted.

"Any suspects?"

Booth took a deep breath; there was a whole laundry list full of suspects and no possible way of narrowing them down, at least not without more information. "It's hard to establish a culprit when we have yet to verify the victim. Has there been any progress on that front?"

"Nothing conclusive." Brennan replied. "Angela compared the skull fragment to the picture provided."

"And?"

"It's not not him. I mean, she couldn't…"

"I know what you mean." Booth assured her.

"Cam was looking for follicles in the hairbrush to match DNA with the blood from the crime scene. I have Daisy working on piece the rest of the skeleton together…"

"Dr. Brennan, you said I could interrupt you if I found something of the utmost importance." Daisy knocked on the door.

"That I did; does this mean I am to assume that you located a genetic marker that would lead to discovery of the identity."

The young intern was hesitant to reply. "Not… quite."

"In which way can you find a qualitative response to my very concise query?"

"You should just tell her what you found." Booth recommended.

"I found the bullet hole in the left scapula. The bone was broken into three pieces, but when bound together its consistent with the size of the bullet you gave to Dr. Hodgins to analyze."

Brennan looked to Booth. "That's consistent with the story the police formed from the evidence at the scene."

"Yeah." Booth responded with a hint of grief. "Which means if the DNA test comes back…"

"You still don't think…"

"I don't know. I… I don't know; you're always the one that says don't jump to conclusions, so this is me not jumping to any… can I see the… scapula?"

"That's a shoulder blade." Brennan whispered to him.

"I know what that is; I've worked with you long enough." He stated following Brennan and her squint out to the lab, as he did he found Agent Sterling standing over Hodgins station. "Hodgins, do not say a word to that man. You report to me, hear me?"

"Actually he reports to me and I report… to you." Brennan whispered the last part as she identified the 'not amused' look from Booth.

"How did you enjoy your reading, Special Agent?" Sterling smirked at him.

"What are you doing here?" Booth barked at him.

"As I stated earlier, Spencer is a person of interest…"

"And as I stated once the identity is confirmed I will go through proper channels; until then you have no business being anywhere near this lab. Security!"

"Okay, okay, no need to send the dogs out. It was nice chatting with you Jack." Sterling wandered out.

"What did you tell him?" Booth got up in Hodgins face.

"Nothing; nothing, I swear… I mean, not that I have anything to tell. Everything involving this case has been kept hush, hush. What is Interpol's interest in this anyway? And who is this Spencer guy?" Hodgins questioned. His search for fibers came up with nothing. The fabric from the bullet was 100% cotton which meant all traces were reduced to dust in the explosion.

Booth took a couple steps back before Brennan answered for him. "We agreed to go about this without any bias."

"Is that right? Because where I'm standing that's sounding a whole lot like code word for FBI cover-up."

"You better watch it." Booth warned.

"Or what? A bullet between the eyes? I disappear into the night? That's how you boys like it, right?"

"Booth!" Cam warned seeing his hostility mount. "I have the DNA test results. It's a match; whoever used that brush was also responsible for the puddle of blood on the floor."

Booth nodded slightly. "Okay, thanks." He responded before quietly leaving the lab.

"I have a skull to reconstruct." Brennan stated after an awkward silence.

"Wait." Cam stopped her. "Hodgins is right…"

"I am? Score!" He whispered to himself, but causing an irritated glance from his boss.

"If we're being questioned by various government agencies I would like to know what kind of answers I'm not supposed to be giving. Now I get that you were asked a favor from a friend, and I'm okay with that, but we're not going to solve anything without more information."

"It also seems more personal for Booth than… oops, I wasn't supposed to say anything, was I?" Daisy spoke up.

"It's okay." Brennan shrugged. "I was asked to identify the remains by an old friend of mine, Nathan Ford. He was an insurance agent who was, well, brilliant actually, in finding stolen pieces for museums and collectors. He saved his company millions in pay outs."

"And you would help with the verification." Cam assumed.

"I lost track of him for awhile. What I didn't know is that his son got sick and his agency refused to pay for the procedure that could have saved him."

"Oh my God." Daisy reacted.

"That's rough." Hodgins responded.

"I hadn't heard from him in years, but apparently after that he put a group together to assist people that have been wronged by the corrupt in order to gain control; gain leverage."

"A group?" Hodgins questioned. "A group of thieves; why else would Interpol be interested?"

"So this Spencer guy was an employee of Mr. Ford." Cam deduced.

"Eliot Spencer; he went under the alias of Marcus Carter to purchase the property and vehicle where the remains were found. According to Massachusetts State Police the victim was shot in the dining room about to sit down to an early breakfast by a sniper that must have been staked out in a tree during the thunderstorm in Boston last night. After getting hit he crawled out through the attached garage and made it into his vehicle triggering what is guessed to be a pressure trigger."

"That fits the evidence." Cam responded. "I guess I don't understand what we're doing…?"

"Nate asked me to ensure that the remains were indeed that of Mr. Spencer, and Booth doesn't think the story fits."

"So Booth does have a personal connection?" Daisy questioned.

"Almost 20-years ago there were buddies on the same military base. Something about Spencer being a good wingman, I don't know. Booth doesn't buy that a trained sharpshooter would shoot to wound."

"If you look at the bullet wound it is 8 centimeters from impacting the cardiac muscle perhaps the victim shifted slightly as the shooter was aiming the shot." Daisy proposed.

"That's possible." Hodgins responded. "Plus, the car was already hooked up. There was no way he was getting away."

"All of which I already pointed out to Booth who seems to believe that the bomb was merely a method of covering the identity of the victim."

Cam hated to point out the next fact. "Well, if it's Eliot's hair, than it's Eliot's blood."

"Hodgins, I want you to identify the bomb." Brennan ordered.

"Sure." He nodded.

XXXXXX

The team settled into a hotel in downtown DC. The efforts of Nate to talk them all out of coming with failed miserably. Hardison sat at the desk attempting to tap into the security feeds for the video footage from the cameras closest to Eliot's neighborhood in order to locate any suspicious activity.

"I'm going to go to the Jeffersonian. Stay here! I mean it. This is DC which means it's Interpol domain, my guess is that Sterling is already all over this."

"I'm not scared of Sterling." Parker claimed.

"Honey…" Sophie intervened. "Now is not the time."

"Sure it is. We all need to know, right? Once we do, we can stop… We can focus on where he is and get him back."

"What makes you think you'll…?" Hardison started to ask.

"Because I will!"

"Parker, you're in denial." Nate pointed out.

"I am not." She swore.

"That's precisely what you'd say if you were, actually, in a state of… denial." Hardison responded.

"Just, let me go, Nate, please?" The thief begged.

Nate sat down taking a sip from the whiskey he found in the mini bar. "Parker, he wouldn't want you to see… him… in that…condition."

"Then let's prove it's not him."

"There's a team of people trying to do exact thing right now, but until they do I can't allow any of you to have to witness that." Nate argued.

"I can handle…" Parker spoke.

"I don't care! I just… I'll be back later." He slammed down the drink before getting up. Parker went to go after before Sophie held her back.

"Sweetie, he needs this, okay?" Sophie attempted to explain.

"I don't understand."

"Nate doesn't want us seeing him see the remains."

"Why?"

"Because he won't be convinced that it's not Eliot until some lab report says so." Sophie clarified. "And without Eliot here, Nate seems to think it's his responsibility to be the strong one."


	7. Chapter 7

"I don't suppose I left my UV laser in here?" Hodgins peeked into Angela's office.

"Is that really the best you can come up with?" Angela smiled inviting him in for a hug.

"Am I that transparent?" He asked rubbing the bump of her tummy.

"We missed you too." She kissed him.

"Is that him?" Hodgins questioned as they broke taking in the picture on her desk.

"Yeah." She replied with a hint of regret. "He's gorgeous."

"Is that right?" He replied slightly displeased. "That's not what I would have expected from ex-military gone thief."

"What?" Angela questioned. "No. Really? I would have put money on him being an artist; musician, more specifically. Probably the guitar. I bet he has a beautiful voice, too…"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Hodgins said grabbing the picture from her. "I'd really rather my wife and mother of my child not be ogling the dead guy."

"Did Brennan confirm…?"

"No." He responded. "It's still sitting at suspected dead guy, where I assume he's going to stay until the facial reconstruction can be done."

"Once Brennan can bring me enough of the skull to do it justice…"

"At this point I'm not certain anyone wants the truth to come out."

"Why would you say that? I mean, I know this is a personal favor from Brennan, but she's an expert on compartmentalizing this sort of thing. It won't be easy telling her friend…"

"It's not Brennan I'm worried about." Hodgins interrupted her.

"What does that mean?" Dr. Lance Sweets asked standing in the doorway. "Who are you worried about?"

"Excuse me; private conversation going on here." Hodgins indicated.

"I'm sorry, but Booth asked me to get the picture from Angela, if you're not currently using it, to do a psychological profile."

"I already scanned it into my computer, here." Angela handed the photo over. "And I'm curious to know who we're worried about."

"He was an old comrade of Booth's a while back; the whole brother in arms sort of thing."

"Booth knew him personally?" Sweets inquired.

"Yeah, and you know how he is about soldiers being the good guys. It has to kill him that his old buddy went from being one of US' proudest to a thief on Interpol's radar."

"Interpol is in this?" Angela asked.

"Booth just rushed out an agent not that long ago; I have to admit that guy did leave a slimy taste in my mouth, and coming from the bug and slime guy, that's really saying something; however, their reason for poking around may be legit. The bullet was home made and shot through an Israeli sniper rifle which indicates a professional job. If I can identify the anions and cations from the explosive residue I should be able to come up with a location where the bomb was made."

"Well then get to that." Cam passed by the in the hall.

"Sweets, Booth is waiting for you in Brennan's office. Hodgins…"

"I know; I'm going." He gave Angela a peck on the cheek.

"How's Daisy doing?" Sweets asked Cam knowing that the young intern had a way of driving the entire staff to their threshold, but it was that enthusiasm that he loved about the girl.

"Ms. Wick is behaving very professionally." Cam assured him. "Dr. Brennan has her cataloguing prior injuries and physical indicators."

"Have her check out the left wrist." Angela spoke up.

"Why?" Cam asked.

"To see if he's spent a lot of time in this position." She demonstrated the position of a bent wrist over the neck of a guitar. "Call it a hunch."

Sweets shrugged.

"Okay." Cam responded; it couldn't hurt.

XXXXX

Nate stepped through the glass doors into the sterile space of the forensic lab at the Jeffersonian Institute. In the center of the open space was a secured platformed lab where a young woman was closely examining the bones of their victim so eloquently laid out in the shape of a skeleton. It amazed him that all the pieces were there and fitted together after the damage that was done to the body in the explosion.

"Excuse me." Nate spoke up.

The startled intern dropped the rib she was studying as her gaze darted towards him. "Oh… it's okay, it didn't break, well not anymore than it already… please, don't tell Dr. Brennan."

"How about we just consider that my fault? Could you tell me where I could find Dr. Brennan?"

"Dr. Brennan is in Limbo."

"In Limbo?" Nate questioned.

"Yeah, but she requested to not be disturbed; she's putting together the skull, which is a very delicate procedure especially in this case where the blast sent the cranium into hundreds of pieces. I only wished that she trusted me enough to help; I love that sort of thing. Even as a kid I was doing the thousand piece jigsaw puzzle and now they have the 'impossible' kind…" she demonstrated the quotes. "I don't mean to toot my own horn…"

Nate stood pinching the bridge of his nose trying to tune the girl out.

"Ms. Wick." Cam scolded the girl. "I'm sorry about that. I'm Dr. Camille Saroyan, head of the Forensic Division here. Can I help you with something?"

"Nathan Ford." He reached his hand out to shake hers.

"You're Mr… oh my God, I am so sorry… so very…" Daisy apologized.

"Ms. Wick, please, you can make it up by just doing your job."

"I appreciate that." Nate whispered to the pathologist. "I guess that means Temperance has already told you…"

"Yes; she has, and if you just follow me I can take you to…"

"I don't want to interrupt if she's busy." Nate insisted trying to keep his gaze from the bones spread on the table above him. "I don't suppose you could tell me if there's been any progress in the identification?"

"I, um…" She started.

"There's no need to sugarcoat it."

"Okay; a DNA test revealed that the blood found at the scene belonged most likely to the owner of the residence, and that the damage of an impact wound located in the left scapula matches that of the size and make of the bullet that was brought in as evidence."

Nate closed his eyes talking himself into remembering how to breathe.

"Would you like me to get Dr. Brennan?" Cam asked him knowing that she was a friend.

"No; your Ms. Wick, here, was telling me that she was piecing together the skull for um… ah…"

"Facial reconstruction, yeah; Ms. Montenegro does a phenomenal job at putting a face to the deceased. It's been proven conclusive in hundreds of cases."

Nate nodded, not needing the validity of it. He trusted Brennan with that. No second opinion was needed. Once she signed off on the identification it was done. "Special Agent Booth asked me to bring a list of suspects."

"He's down that hall." She pointed. "Third on the right."

XXXXX

"Have you found anything?" Sophie asked Hardison who stared at his computer screen.

"Yeah, I found out our boy found the one place in town with no security cameras within a hundred and fifty yard radius of his house. I mean, damn, I knew that man was paranoid, but really? I didn't think Boston had the boondocks, but if someone was going to find a remote area…" Hardison continued annoyed.

"He liked his privacy." Sophie responded.

"Likes." Hardison corrected her. "'Scuse me if I'm not quite ready for the 'ed yet."

"None of us are." She stated quietly.

"Where did…. where did Parker go?"

Sophie shrugged. "Roof top? Out for a walk? I don't know. She couldn't get too far…. I don't suppose you still have a tracking devise on her?"

"You lost her?" Hardison questioned.

"It's Parker; turn around one second and she's… gone."

"She's gone? She… she… in Interpol territory?"

"Well, you have to give her credit. She is very good at not getting caught." Sophie defended the thief. "She probably just went to the Jeffersonian."

"Just?" He reacted. "Must I reiterate that Sterling most definitely has surveillance on that place?"

"Then hack into it, scrabble the signal, and let's find her. That's what you do, right?"

"That's what I… you still don't get what I do, do you?" The hacker shook his head. "I can hack into a video feed but I can't do anything about a parked agent with binoculars. I suppose I could hack into the GPS in her smart phone… give me a second…"

He pressed a few keys as Sophie looked over his shoulder for a blinking light. "There it is."

"That's here." Hardison replied and dialed the number which Sophie followed the ring into the adjoining room where the phone sat on the desktop.

"I'll call us a cab." Sophie dictated.

"I can't. I… I can't be there. Just watching those CSI shows on television makes me squeamish."

"Hardison, you play those games all the time where you're blowing things up and there's carnage everywhere…"

"That's different! It's not… it's a virtual reality, the blood it's not…"

"Real." She answered for him. He shook his head holding back tears. It wasn't real, and the graphics on the screen wasn't the remnants of his best friend. "Are you going to be okay if I leave you here alone?"

Hardison nodded. "I'll keep working on this; there has to be something."

"Can you call Nate and have him keep an eye out for her?"

"Sure, no problem."


	8. Chapter 8

"So, what do you think?" Booth asked Sweets impatiently after giving him some time to scan over the file and report from the crime scene.

"I don't normally do psychological profiles for the victim." The psychologist prodded putting down the report.

"We don't know that he is the victim." Booth argued.

"No." Sweets corrected him. "We don't know that his remains are lying on that table out there, but he is the victim. He was targeted, and someone put a bullet in his chest."

"Maybe they had a good reason." Booth stated softly and regretfully.

"Do you want me to tell you that he was the bad guy? That he got what was coming to him? Would that make it easier for you to disassociate from the man you knew…?"

"I do not know that man!" Booth declared angrily pointing at the file.

"Then why don't you tell me about the Eliot Spencer you did know?"

Booth shook his head. "This isn't a therapy session. What I need to know is how to narrow down a list of suspects who would want this man dead."

"I can't get a psychological profile out of this."

"What do you mean you can't? You've worked with a lot less."

"The story is not complete. What I get from this is that he was a highly trained professional that Interpol couldn't touch, and after years of working on his own to retrieve merchandise for his clients, he met the right person and started using his training to help people. Do you really want to know what that suggests to me?"

Booth nodded.

"Deep down he was always a good person that wanted to do the right thing. Something happened and he got betrayed by the entity he looked to in order to determine right from wrong, and suddenly there wasn't a difference. Not until he met this Nathan Ford guy. He gave him direction and purpose, which provided him intrinsic value in what he was doing."

"He hurt… he killed for a paycheck." Booth responded.

"Didn't you do the same thing?"

"No; I did it for safety and protection of…"

"For the US government." Sweets interrupted him.

"That entity that betrayed him." Booth realized.

"Probably." Sweets answered. "What's the last memory you have of him?"

"Sweets…"

"Just indulge me."

"It was his graduation from basic. He invited me out with his family for dinner afterwards at a local steakhouse. Picture perfect family, too; supportive mom, proud father, and annoying little sister that although she acted like she didn't care you knew she saw him as her hero. His girlfriend was there, a fiery redhead who he loved deeply. I just… I don't get it." He couldn't wrap his head around that chart. The Spencer he knew had it all; he had what Booth wanted. Booth's father was an alcoholic that beat him and then abandoned him and his brother. Without his grandfather Booth didn't want to imagine where he'd be.

"Would you like me to explain?" Nate questioned standing outside the door. Following the non-verbal cues Nate stepped inside and took a seat. "Eliot prides himself on being the protector. Most of his military missions involved rescuing prisoners of war from enemy camps. He's probably seen some of the worst of human nature. He had been through some of the worst in order to ensure a rescue, and he was okay with that. What he wasn't okay with were those orders to stand down and do nothing because his life was more valuable to the government than the eighteen-year-old hostage that got caught fighting on the front line. His respect for the soldiers and what they do… that never went away.

"The shift from soldier to 'retrieval expert' didn't happen over night, and it didn't start by tackling illegal merchandise. It was about control, and not having a contract over his head. It was about doing things on his terms, and eventually he realized the cost of that. He made some very powerful enemies, and he didn't want anyone else to get hurt by that." Nate explained.

"So he worked alone; kept his family out of it." Sweets understood.

Nate nodded; the information he had was from late nights at McRory's after the rest of the team had called it a night or left to do their own celebratory activities. "I'm not sure the last time he spoke with them."

"I can find them, and let them know…" Booth volunteered to look through FBI directories to locate his parents.

"Not yet." Nate responded. They didn't need to know until there was something to tell. After not hearing from Eliot in probably ten years, waiting a few more hours for certainty couldn't hurt. And, as far as Nate was concerned, Eliot's family already knew. He passed his list over to the FBI agent. "I broke it into two lists; the people that would want Eliot dead, and those that would want him tortured."

Sweets peered over Booth's shoulder to take a peek noticing that the latter was much longer and nearing the top of the 'dead' list was that of James Sterling.

"Is that right?" Booth pointed at it feeling something off with the guy.

"I don't see him planting a car bomb, but yeah, no skin off his back if Eliot was killed. He's already sent a mercenary after him; luckily for us, Eliot was better. Why? You know him?"

Booth snickered. "Not until today; he's been poking his nose around. Do you think he…?"

"No. Of course I'm still holding out that it's someone from the other list."

"Can I take him in for questioning anyway?" Booth suggested.

"Please do." Nate responded.

XXXXX

"Ms. Wick." Brennan acknowledged the presence of the young intern as she approached her instructor.

"I believe I have found something." Daisy explained and waited for Brennan to coax her into explaining further. "I was cataloguing injuries to the thoracic region as advised until Dr. Saroyan directed me to pay particular attention to the carpus. Apparently Ms. Montenegro believes that the assumed victim may have had a proficiency for playing the guitar that could be adventitious in identifying the remains."

"Are there any skeletal indicators to confirm this claim?" Brennan questioned.

"That's just it; I don't know. The damage…there's a divot present in both the radius and ulna equidistant from the joint as well as presence of repeated stress fractures in the scaphoid, lunate, and triquetrum."

"Which…?"

"Both sides." Daisy answered before Brennan got the question out.

"What does that mean?" They heard a voice from somewhere in the room. Both women looked around anxiously until a blonde pony tail peaked out of the air duct.

The questions of 'who are you?' and 'how did you get in here?' came out at the same time before the girl lowered herself onto the table next to the partially constructed skull.

"Don't touch that!" Brennan warned as she reached for a bone. "Secur…"

"Don't, please." Parker stopped the woman from calling out the hall. "I'll answer whatever questions you want. My name is Parker, and I came through the ventilation system."

"Why?" Daisy asked her.

"Because that was the only way in through the side and Interpol is circling around the front." Parker responded. "Plus there's less security to have to check through, and it can be really difficult explaining my way through the lock pick and taser that I keep on me."

"Why would you need…?" Daisy started to ask.

"You must be friends of Nate's." Brennan responded.

"Well, I don't know about friends, per se. According to Sophie a friend is someone you take for coffee and discuss things that interest the both of you that doesn't have to do with repelling off of 30 story buildings or breaking into state of the art vaults."

"He's your employer." Brennan clarified.

Parker pondered for a moment; it was more than that, but she didn't need to get into the intricacies of it especially since she had her own question to be answered so settled for the simple confirmation. "Look, I'll get out of your way, if you can tell me if that's… if that belongs to… if…"

"We're still working on the identification." Brennan answered. "Ms. Wick was just telling me about injury to wrists suggesting that the victim has been bound for extended periods of time; have you discovered any damage to the tarsal region?"

"I will assess that right now." Daisy promised.

"Also check for any abnormalities of the T9 through L3 vertebrae." Brennan instructed before turning back to the thief. "Ms….?"

"Parker." She responded.

"Is that your first or your last…?"

"It's just Parker. I'm assuming you're Nate's friend, Dr. Brennan. He said that you're the best."

"I am, but I need to finish this before I can give you the answer you're looking for. I can see if there's room in Angela's office if you want to wait."

"How long do you think it will take?"

"That depends on how many more interruptions I get." Brennan answered prior to leading Parker down the hall having a feeling that this girl shouldn't be left unattended. Besides that Angela had a way of talking to people and although Parker didn't seem affected by the bones as she passed the table there had to be some underlying trepidation to this situation.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, sorry about the delay in this. I'm trying to update every five reviews or more (hint, hint) :-). Currently I'm working between two/three jobs. Leaving one while training for another, but um... still working on writing when I can. Hope you enjoy!**

xxxxxx

"Well, as fun as that may be, I probably shouldn't be bringing him in." Booth backed off on the idea of questioning Sterling.

"Why?" Sweets asked him, looking forward to the idea of interrogating an Interpol agent.

"I told him I didn't know who Eliot Spencer was; that we were investigating the death of a Marcus Carter, and if he had any information on _that_ case feel free to let me know. I didn't like his attitude." Booth explained causing Nate to smile. "If I brought him in for questioning now all it would do is confirm everything he knows to be true."

"And there would be no way of getting him off the premises once his alibi was confirmed." Nate understood. He felt the vibration of his cell go off in his pocket. "Excuse me, um… can I take this?"

Booth nodded allowing Nate to walk away from the desk to answer his phone call. "Hardison, nothing has been confirmed yet."

"Hey, look man, I am in no rush. Your friend can run as many tests as she would like and take all the time she pleases. The more thorough the better as far as I'm concerned…" Hardison responded; without confirmation there was no death and he wanted to hang onto that for as long as he possibly could. "Of course that's not exactly how Parker sees it."

"Well, tell Parker…"  
"I can't." Hardison interrupted him. "Parker has gone AWOL; Sophie's catching a cab over under the impression she has gone that way."

Nate shook his head; he should have known better than expect any one of them to listen to him. "Did Sophie say how she was planning on getting into the building?"

"Um…"

Nate was pretty sure Parker could find a way in that involved not walking through the front door. "Never mind; just you stay put."

"That was the plan." He confirmed before stuffing a gummy frog into his mouth, and turning the video feed from the security camera's over by Eliot's neighborhood back on. After discerning the only possible routes to his residence Hardison plan consisted of taking down and tracking the license plate of all traffic between the times of 12 to 5am when the storm was at its peak. "Will you let me know when you've located the girls?"

"Yeah." Nate promised before hanging up and requesting a favor of Booth. "Um… do you think you can bring Sterling in?"

"I thought we just said…" Booth responded.

"I need a distraction." Nate interrupted.

"I'm not going to be able to hold him for more than a few hours without the implication of some kind of charge, and I really don't want the head of Interpol up my ass on this." Booth explained.

"That's fine." Nate assured him; ultimately he would like for Sterling to be held until the identity could be confirmed because he was certain he wasn't getting Parker out of there until it was, but he would make due with what he had.

"Alright Sweets, we're up." Booth stood to usher the man out.

"Aren't you going to invite Brennan…?" Sweets questioned knowing the anthropologist usually enjoyed tagging along as Booth did his thing.

"No; Bones is intent on staying in the lab for this one. Come on."

"Thank you." Nate offered.

Booth shrugged. "Just doing my job."

XXXXX

"What is that?" Parker asked as her head tilted studying a picture on Angela's wall.

Angela laughed. "You know, he never did tell me. Jack said it was prettier if I didn't know."

The thief shrugged. "Precisely why I never really got into paintings." There was something about the subjective nature of art that never really appealed to the girl. Diamonds were shiny, she liked that, and money… well, cash was cash; it was real. You could feel and smell the divineness of it.

"I take it you've traveled all over the world?" Angela inquired.

"Wanted in nine countries." Parker smiled as thought it was a badge of honor. Of course, until the construction of Leverage Inc. it was the only way she was 'wanted' for anything.

"You know, you kind of remind me of Brennan." Angela smiled. There was something about the girls' frankness that she had grown to appreciate.

"Really?" Parker looked just a bit disgusted. "She seems kind of creepy. I mean, don't get me wrong, once she proves once and for all that's not Eliot I'll be more than grateful, but still… creepy."

Angela laughed. "You know; there was a time I thought that same thing, but there's a lot more hidden beneath than just the woman that spends her time examining the remains of dead people. Besides, like you, she's the best at what she does."

"I figured that." Parker responded. "Nate wouldn't obtain the services of anyone but; especially for this."

"So, you don't think it's your friend?" Angela offered the girl a seat.

"I know it's not. You probably think I'm crazy, everyone does, but I was right there. I don't know who is on that table, but it's not him."

Angela offered a hand in comfort causing Parker to pull away. Realizing the girls' unease for the contact she backed off. "We'll figure out what really happened; I can promise you that; and… I don't think you're crazy; there's nothing wrong with listening to your heart…"

Parker looked confused. "I didn't know my heart could talk."

Yep, definitely reminded her of Brennan. "No; honey, I meant listening to what your instincts are telling you. Sometime people have connections with others than runs deeper than logic. They say that some twins can physically feel it when their sibling is seriously hurt."

"Who's they?" Parker asked.

"Scientists, researchers. You know, the obligatory 'they'? Okay, so you don't know." Angela read from her reaction. "How about you tell me about him?"

"Isn't there a file…?"

"The file only says what he's done; you can tell me who he is." Angela explained in a way that was reminiscent to the way Sophie approached her.

"He's our protector; the big brother that pretends to be annoyed and grumpy all the time, but just cause he's afraid of letting on that he's getting too close. He enjoys cooking, and driving, and horseback riding, and beating the hell out of people who use their own strength and stature to intimidate others."

"No wonder he got along so well with Booth." Angela responded after hearing that last part, and then explained further as she recognized the look of puzzlement staring back at her. "Booth is our FBI agent; he apparently knew… Eliot… a while back."

Angela had paused to see that it was okay to use the casual name, the lack of reaction from the girl proved that it was tolerated.

"Did he play music at all?" Angela asked her; testing her own hypothesis.

Parker smiled. "He was the fiddle."

"He played the fiddle?" She questioned figuring she wasn't that much off.

"No; he was the fiddle. He played the guitar."

"Okay." Angela responded not sure of what that meant, but proud that her instincts were right.

"Hey Angela?" Cam poked her head in. "Oh, I didn't know you had company. Why do you have…?"

"This is Parker; she's an employee of Leverage, Inc." Angela explained. "Dr. Brennan asked if I could keep an eye on her, but if there's something you need me to do…?"

"Well, I was wondering if you could run a simulation of the crime scene based on the report we got back from the state police. Figure out exactly where the sharp shooter was perched; how he got in and out so we can figure out when and how that bomb got placed without the victim being aware of someone sniffing around his garage." Cam explained before directing her attention back to the girl.

"He was probably sleeping when it was placed."

"No." Parker responded. "Eliot is hyper aware; even when he's sleeping. I should know, I've… never mind, even if they did override the security he would have known if someone was in there."

"If that's true, then what does that mean?" Angela questioned.

"It would mean the bomb wasn't placed before the victim was shot." Cam replied. "Which also suggests the shooter was not the only person that was there. Okay, once you figure out the sharp shooters location I need you to take a look at the blood smears and retrace the victim's movements."

"I'm on it; where would you like our guest?" Angela pointed at Parker who was ruffling through the artifacts on her desk.

"Um…"

"She's kind of like a kid at a candy store here." Angela whispered.

"She can come with me; we can see if we can locate Mr. Ford." Cam decided; inviting the thief to take a walk with her.


	10. Chapter 10

Booth stood outside Sterling's vehicle knocking on the window and holding out his badge until the Interpol agent rolled the bullet proof glass plate down.

"I told you you'd come knocking. What can I do for you?" Sterling smiled.

"I appreciate the cooperation. Tell your friend, here, to get this car out of the handicapped spot while you and I have a little discussion downtown." Booth insisted pointing to the lackey in the passenger's seat.

"There's no need to go downtown. I'm completely willing to answer any questions you have right here."

Booth gave a slight nod. "I really must insist. You know how it is, protocol and all."

"Am I under arrest?" Sterling asked him.

"Consider yourself a person of interest. FBI gets a little suspicious when outsiders provide information about a victim that has yet to be identified."

"Does that mean Spencer's been officially identified?"

Booth said nothing as he opened the door inviting Sterling into the backseat of the vehicle that Sweets was parked in. Booth came around and sat behind the wheel watching for the Sterling's vehicle to show movement before pulling out.

"I'll take the distinct lack of an answer as confirmation." Sterling stated from the backseat. "So, Spencer's really dead? Wow! I've been known to underestimate him from time to time, but could have sworn it would take more than that to put him down. Who is this kid? Is it take your child to work day?"

Sweets continued to look at the window as the man ranted, giving him more than enough to identify the best route in obtaining the information they wanted from him.

XXXXX

On Nate's command Sophie waited for Booth's vehicle to pull away before approaching the entrance of the Jeffersonian. Nate stood just inside the door.

"Have you seen Parker?" Sophie asked her.

"Not yet; what did you think you were doing coming here?" Nate questioned her.

"I had to find…"

"Parker, really?" Nate interrupted her. "You didn't think I could handle that? You shouldn't be here; you shouldn't even be in this town."

"You shouldn't be alone." She countered. "And I am here, so let's find our thief before she causes more trouble."

Nate shook his head as he directed her towards the lab.

"Do they know…?" Sophie was hesitant to ask before the glass door slid open.

"No; not yet." Nate answered. She figured as much; he would have said something had there been news to report. Sophie walked towards the table. Nate stopped her before she had the chance to set off any alarms. Daisy worked studiously studying the marks located on the bones and jotting down any irregularities.

"Is that..?" Sophie attempted to maintain composure.

"Sophie." He stated calmly pulling her into his chest as the tears started to fall. Up until this point Eliot's death was a hypothetical; the only person that had seen the crime scene was Nate. He was the only one that had to process the blood, flesh, and bone. Suddenly Sophie became very aware of why he pushed so hard to keep them out of it as she felt her knees start to shake beneath her.

"It's not him." Parker stated from the upper level standing in the lounge area looking down at the others. "Sophie, wipe those tears away, and Nate before you say anything the facts agree with me."

Nate watched Parker climb over the railing as Cam's eyes widened while the girl jumped the story straight onto her feet like a cat hitting the ground level.

"What the…!" The pathologist looked over the ledge to see her approach her teammates.

Parker looked up with a confused glance. "It's not like it's a moving train… although, that would be fun."

"Parker, what do you mean?" Nate asked still holding the distraught grifter.

"I mean that Eliot wouldn't have slept through someone breaking into his garage to tamper with his truck before hiding out in his backyard. It wouldn't have happened."

"Maybe the bomb was placed earlier, when Eliot wasn't there." Sophie countered.

"If he wasn't there he would have been using his truck." Nate responded.

"See." Parker pointed at the mastermind.

"There was a storm, a lot of noise." Sophie insisted.

"Which only means it would have been harder for Eliot to sleep through it." Parker argued; not explaining how she knew that particular fact. "It's not him."

"That hardly concrete." Nate stated.

"Maybe this is." Brennan responded as she approached them shouting up to the division head. "Cam, will you tell Angela that I have the skull constructed?"

"Absolutely." Cam nodded.

xxxxx

**Sorry so short, it's been a long week. And yeah… kind of cliffy. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry it's been sooo long! I hope this makes up for it. **

xxxxxxx

Booth sat across from the Interpol agent staring him down.

"Is he dead?" Sterling grinned.

"How did you hear about the car bomb?" Booth ignored the man's question disgusted by the giddiness of the possible result.

"Sources." Sterling answered. "I made a friend in Boston last time I was in town."

"Let me guess; the kind willing to break a few rules in order to get ahead in life?" Booth suggested.

"The kind that understand the value of 'I'll scratch your back in you scratch mine.'" Sterling clarified. "There's nothing illegal about Boston's finest assisting an ongoing Interpol investigation in hopes of receiving their shield."

"Of course not." Booth mumbled. "What were you doing in Boston?"

"Excuse me?"

"Chasing down a bad guy? It hardly seems like Interpol territory."

"No; it was prior to my promotion into Interpol. I was working with IYS insurance to track down a Faberge egg in Kiev."

"I remember that!" Sweets shot out. "That was just over a year ago; you got your promotion by hiding in the trunk of that real-estate guy."

"Something like that." Sterling sneered.

"Why would Kiev take you through Boston?" Booth asked him.

"Layover." Sterling answered.

"A layover where you decided to drop by the police department to elicit help for an agency you weren't yet apart of?"

"I had a feeling that big things could come out of cracking that case."

"And so you made it your mission to take down Ford and his crew before your

entrance to the agency? I have to wonder why?"

"Did you miss the part where they were thieves?" Sterling asked condescendingly. "That crew comprises of the best in their craft; when I take them down…"

"It'll prove that you're better." The psychologist cut him off. "But you didn't take Spencer down, did you?"

"You're the shrink, you tell me." Sterling glared at the man he looked down on as a child.

"No, no, you didn't do it. Too much uncertainty. You want him to be dead, though. It's your only way in. They are the best at what they do, and he was the protector." Sweets glared back as if he was reading the man's mind.

"'Protector.'" He laughed. "You make it sound so gallant. The knight in shining armor or the honored veteran, is that how you want to remember your old pal?"

Booth turned away as it appeared once again Sterling was privy to more information than he should have.

"I guess I overheard more than I should have down at the Jeffersonian." Sterling explained. "That man was not a hero; he hurt people, he _killed_ people. You may think I'm a crooked opportunist, but in this situation I am not the bad guy."

"Booth." Sweets looked over at him concerned as the FBI agent tried to hide the sting of Sterling's words.

"In this case neither is he." Booth responded towards the man across from him. "So with all this special interest paid to him, do you have any ideas on the persons responsible?"

Sterling shook his head. "There are only a handful of enemies that left Spencer's company alive. Ford already gave you those names."

"How about an angry family member of someone that crossed his path?" Sweets looked to Booth.

"No; this wasn't a crime of passion."

"Organized crime?" Sweets threw out.

"The Russians don't like him much." Sterling snickered.

XXXXX

"How long do these things take?" Sophie asked Hodgins as Nate held onto her waiting to hear back from the results of the facial identification. Parker had been pacified by looking at slides under the bug and slime mans microscope.

"It's setting the markers that takes the most time after that it's just a matter of running it through a computer program that generates the face which we compare to his photo." Hodgins explained.

"Fifteen minutes/half an hour?" Nate asked more specifically.

"Not even. She's done so many it's become second nature." He watched as a tear fell down the grifter's face realizing that this fact probably wasn't as comforting as he hoped it would be. He settled on; "it won't be long."

"Then what?" Sophie looked to Nate.

"I don't know." He kissed the top of her head. He didn't want say out loud, in a government facility, that the next step was to find the person(s) responsible and either retrieve their teammate or avenge his death by any means necessary.

"What do we have here?" Parker asked picking up something from the evidence box.

"Don't touch that!" Hodgins yelled out.

Parker examined the mass in her hands knowing exactly what she had. "It's not pressure sensitive."

"What?" Nate questioned looking at the remnants of the bomb.

"See, right here." She pointed out. "It was triggered remotely by of a distance of no more than 50 feet."

Hodgins took the bomb from her hands to examine. "How did I miss that? How did you know…?"

The thief shrugged thinking it a bad idea to tell him that she's been using explosives as part of her trade since she was eight. "It's a hobby."

"What does that mean?" Sophie asked.

"It means Booth could be right." Nate responded. "The bomb was meant for a cover." Before he had time to process the fact completely he saw Brennan and Angela emerge from the techno-imaging room. "…Temperance…?"

Brennan shook her head. "It's not him."


	12. Chapter 12

There was a collective sigh of relief among the thieves, even Parker, had a moment of doubt before the confirmation was given.

"Who is it?" Parker asked Dr. Brennan.

"Angela will run the image through the missing person's database, although due the recording injuries sustained on the remains it's likely Booth will have more success with an identification going through FBI channels." Temperance explained eluding to the fact that the victim was a criminal in his own right and therefore didn't have a 'missing persons' report filed on him.

"But it's not Eliot?" Sophie confirmed after Angela stepped away to complete her assignments.

"No; it is not Mr. Spencer." Brennan repeated; she wasn't quite certain why being under the impression that each of the team were on the top of their game.

"Did you hear that?" Sophie turned towards Nate who didn't appear as comforted as she thought he should be. "Eliot's alive!"

"Well no; I didn't say that." Brennan responded.

"What she means is…" Hodgins stepped into the conversation knowing Brennan could come off as abrasive, "right now all the evidence confirms is that the charred remains do not belong to Mr. Spencer. As scientists we can't hypothesize more about his physical state without the data to support it."

Brennan was fairly certain she was capable of putting that same statement together and would have voiced her say over the matter, but the look of horror on her friend's face distracted her from that. "Nate, I'm sorry if…"

"No." Nate interrupted her. He wasn't going to have her apologizing for doing her job or giving him the facts he asked for. "There's no need for sorrys. He's alive." The tone of the statement incongruent with the content; spying the inquisitive glances he explained. "There's no sense in staging that big of a cover up only to allow him to bleed out hours later. I don't know how much time he has, but his captures are going to keep his heart beating for as long as they can."

"That makes sense." Brennan agreed as much as she was willing to off intuition.

"How do we know he was taken?" Parker questioned still willing herself into believe Eliot was hiding away somewhere waiting for the dust to settle.

"He would have tried to contact someone by now." Nate answered evading any conversation of lack of blood splatter that would occur had he been successful in resisting confinement.

"Not if he thought he was protecting us!" The thief argued.

"Parker…" Sophie offered a sympathetic shoulder pat that the thief shrugged off. "How do we find him before it's too late?"

"We go back to the hotel and let Brennan's team do their job." Nate suggested giving Brennan the okay to go back to work. "Temperance; thank you."

She waved it off feeling that she had yet to earn his gratitude before retreating to her office to place a call.

"Nate." Sophie pulled the mastermind over to the side leaving Hodgins and Parker glancing oddly at each other. "As far as they're concerned Eliot's case is done. They are a forensics division and they have their homicide to solve."

"Yeah, but that homicide is the only link we have to finding what we want; we need to know who he is to figure out who wanted him dead, and _that_ will bring us the information to where Eliot was taken." Nate explained. "Besides, I'm not going to tell an agency working in cooperation with the FBI that we have our own genius hacking his way through illegal video surveillance."

"He said that was a dead end." Sophie whispered.

Nate shrugged. "So he expanded his search. We're going to find him, Soph." He just wasn't as sure of Eliot's condition when they did.

XXXXX

"Nah; not the Russian's style." Booth rejected Sterling's suggestion.

"You're right." Sterling shot back sarcastically commenting. "It's more the middle eastern MO to plant a bomb. Spencer was real popular in that region."

"He's not wrong." Sweets whispered to Booth. The FBI agent had to agree yet not appreciating the jab towards the notion that the people of that region were all terrorist, nor that region was the only concentration of terrorism.  
"Are we done here?" Sterling took a peak at his watch. "It's been nice chatting with you boys but it's safe to assume that you're not charging me with anything."

Booth ignored the inquiry instead standing to answer the call coming through from Brennan. "Excuse me, I have to take this." He left the psychologist in the room with Sterling.

"That was a little rude." Sterling rolled his eyes. "If he's going to have me just sit here the least he can do is offer me a cup of coffee."

"Would you like some coffee?" Sweets asked hiding the fact the man was working his last nerve.

"From FBI headquarters? I don't think so." Sterling twisted his face illustrating disgust.

"Water?" Sweets offered.

"What do you suppose the update is?" Sterling ignored the offering.

Sweets shrugged not willing to divulge even the guess of who the call was from. "I'd like to know more about your dealings with Ford and his crew."

"What dealings? You already head shrunk me. Is that the right term? They're the best, I take them down and I prove I'm the best."

"You knew where they lived; you have a whole file of illegal activity, why haven't you taken them in?"

"Nothing concrete." Sterling replied. "There day is coming; and if recent events is an indication of anything, sooner than later. Now really, can I go?"

"Your vehicle is on route over here." Booth stepped into the room to tell him.

"What?" Not happy with surveillance being dropped.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you mean to walk? Since I was on the phone with the Jeffersonian I thought I would do you the favor of arranging a ride for you. You can wait in the lobby." Booth dismissed him.

"So?" Sweets asked once the Interpol agent begrudgingly left.

"The facial reconstruction was done. Bones is emailing me the image; she wants me to run a search through the department files."

"It's not him?"

"No; no it's not."

"You don't look surprised." Sweets observed.

"That's because I'm not."

"Are we going to tell our friend down there?"

Booth chuckled. "And ruin the high he's on? Nah; let him figure it out on his own."

"I hate that guy." Sweets commented.

"Right there with ya." Booth concurred.


	13. Chapter 13

**I'm so sorry it's taken this long. A little bit of writers block mixed with a crazy work schedule and simultaneously writing another story, but I swear I'm not giving up on it. **

xxxxxx

"Hardison, what do you got?" Nate asked as he entered the hotel with Sophie and Parker following behind him.

"What do you think you were doing slipping off like that? Is it not bad enough that we have one member completely off the grid…?" Hardison ignored the mastermind and started to grill the thief.

"Hardison, not now." Nate interjected. "What did you find?"

"Oh, I see how it is, while everyone else is off running around doin' there own thing its Hardison, do this. Hardison, do that. Hardison, hurry up. Dude, I'm really starting to feel…"

"Hardison!" Sophie yelled out.

"Underappreciated." He finished his sentence softly. "Okay, okay; I found the vehicle most likely responsible; a black 2011 GMC Yukon. It was spotted heading towards the house at 2:23am and retreating at 4:17am. I've tried zooming in to get a visual on the driver but with tinted windows in a rainstorm I'm batting nothin'."

"Did you get a license plate?" Nate asked.

"Partial." Hardison answered. "Luckily, though, the partial was enough to link in to a Boston AVIS company that rented out the vehicle two days ago to a Mr…. Lucien Horvat."

"Okay, good. Find out everything you can about this Horvat guy." Nate ordered before leaving the room with his cell in hand.

"Is it just me or does he seem more intense now knowing that E is alive?" Hardison questioned Sophie as he inwardly celebrated this fact.

It was Parker that answered. "Now we're racing the clock to keep him that way."

Sophie nodded in agreement. They were already aware of a gunshot wound through the shoulder. Without proper medical attention that alone could cause him to bleed out or, very likely, risk serious infection.

XXXXX

"I figured you could use some lunch, granted, it's a little late, but have you eaten...?" Hodgins questioned as Angela focused her attention on inputting the data on hand into her program.

"Huh?" She looked over her shoulder. "Oh, thanks."

"Oh, no, no, no…" He responded to his overworked, pregnant, wife as he put the plate in front of her.

"Just… a minute." Angela responded.

"A minute? Is Brennan rubbing off on you? I have to insist, Ang…"

"Shhh…" She cut him off putting her hand over his mouth while single handedly typing in a few more details. She removed her hand she replaced it with a kiss before taking a French fry. "Better?"

"Much."

"Good; now get me Cam and Brennan." She smirked as she made the order.

"What am I your…?" He posed as she glanced down at her stomach before glaring at him causing him to nod. "Right, on it."

Angela was able to stuff a few more fries into her mouth before Dr. Brennan and Dr. Saroyan entered her office.

"Were you able to identify…?" Brennan started to ask.

"No; whoever he is, he's not in the missing person's database; but I was able to program in the information from the crime scene into the Angelator to get a 3D representation of what happened there."

"Cool; run it." Cam responded who always seemed just a tad bit surprised by what Angela was able to actually pull off with that thing.

Angela pressed play showing a human silhouette standing in the dining room looking out his living room window as a bullet passed through his left shoulder splattering blood on the wall behind him.

"Okay, stop it there." Cam directed. "Now can you zoom in on where the bullet came from?"

"Sure." Angela entered keys and directed the image towards the backyard where the rifle was triggered from a branch of an oak tree. Brennan wrote down the dimensions to give to Booth. "And then…" She continued back from the dining area where the silhouette dropped and a hand clung to the entry spot of the wound as the figure inched towards the attached garage.

"Dude, the guy's hardcore." Hodgins commented intently watching as the image clearly demonstrated the makings of a bloody handprint that was found on the crime scene photo as he struggled to pull himself to his feet before opening the garage door.

"This is where it gets tricky. I had to try to figure out what was there before the bomb went off. If I take into account the most likely splatter pattern from the blast we are left with…" Angela explained while keying in the variables. "… with this."

There were barely detectable streaks of blood on the floor at the base of the five steps entering the garage. "It looks like somebody tried to clean up after themselves." Hodgins observed.

"Figuring he started at the top step was he dropped or thrown to that spot?" Brennan questioned pointing to the blood stain.

Angela keyed in more variables including everything from stumbling over the step to being hit over the head and dropping forward. As they ran through the outcomes one thing stood out as being obvious.

"Someone was in there with him." Cam stated the fact.

"There wouldn't have been enough time for the sniper to climb down the tree and break into his system." Brennan inferred.

"So, we're dealing with at least two people." Hodgins responded. "My question is how did they get Spencer out and charred boy in without anymore blood spread?"

"Plastic wrap." Booth answered from the doorway causing everybody's head to turn.

"When did you get here?" Brennan step towards him.

"Just now; I found your guy."

XXXXX

"Bonanno." The Boston State Police captain answered his phone.

"It's Ford." Nate responded from the hotel suite.

"Ford; hi, are you doing okay?" The captain inquired.

"Yeah, fine…um…"

"The case was turned over to the FBI, you know that?"

"Yes, I, ah… I know that, but I was hoping since you're there you could follow a lead for me." Nate requested.

Bonanno thought better of it, but considering all the help Nate had provided him in his career he couldn't say no. "I'm due for a lunch break; what do you need?"

"There's an AVIS company on Clarendon Street that rented out a Yukon two days ago; I need you to get the security footage of that purchase and find out when it's due back."

"Footage?" Bonanno questioned. "I'd need a warrant for that, and I really don't want to have to explain to my superiors how I got this lead. Would you settle for a description?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

"Then I'll take it." Nate replied.


	14. Chapter 14

"Nate." Sophie called into the room finding him looking out the window and pouring whiskey down his throat from a flask. "Don't do this to yourself."

"I knew this was going to happen." Nate sniffled back tears. "He had too many enemies; I should have been more careful."

"You can't blame yourself." Sophie put a hand on his shoulder.

"I went after Damien Moreau; we took down _Damien Moreau_." He countered. That was the most high profile mark they had ever had, who also happened to have a personal connection to their hitter. He was stupid to think there would be no ripple effects from that job.

"We don't know that this had anything to do with that." Sophie argued.

"No, we don't. For all we know the Butcher's niece befriended his Craniac twitter page or the son of the prime minister of Myanmar loaded Roy Chapel's energy drink commercial onto youtube." Nate hypothesized.

"I sincerely doubt a Massachusetts ball player is that popular in Burma." Sophie responded.

Nate shook his head as she missed the point.

"Hey, you can sit here and make wild guesses as to how it happened all you want, _or_, might I suggest, we go into the other room and come up with a plan with how to get him back instead."

"Did Hardison find anything on Horvat?"

"Why don't you ask him?" She suggested desperately trying to get him away from drinking himself silly in isolation. Nate followed her into the common area where Hardison sat at the desk with Parker pouring him a glass of orange soda.

"Lucien Horvat; so far what I got is that he's a native to Croatia." Hardison gave an impromptu debriefing. "He fought in the War of Independence from Yugoslavia in the early 1990s where he was taken and tortured as a prisoner of war. He escaped and was part of a rebellion in… early 2000…" Hardison's voice started to trail off.

"What is it?" Parker asked knowing that his mind just keyed in on something.

Hardison flashed back to the kitchen at the old Leverage Inc. headquarters as Eliot stood munching on an apple. "_There was a girl I grew up with. But, anyway, she married somebody else, so..." "__Hot damn. What did you do?" Hardison questioned the hitter. "What did I do? I liberated Croatia." Eliot sneered back. _"That wouldn't make sense; they would have been on the same side." Hardison reacted out loud.

"What are you talking about?" Parker asked him.

"I'm talking about basic mathematics, here." Hardison replied. "We met Aimee two years ago, correct?"

"Yeah." Nate answered wondering what that had anything to do with his thought process.

"And prior to that it had been eight years since they had spoken to each other." Hardison continued.

"She didn't seem too happy with that." Sophie commented.

"In his defense, she did marry someone else." Parker added.

"Right." Hardison came upon his point. "But instead sulking over a broken heart like the rest of the free word woulda done, this resulted in our overly stubborn, can't handle showing any weakness, macho boy, taking off and liberating Croatia… ten years ago."

"So, they knew each other." Nate responded to the point of the history lesson.

"Yes." Sophie agreed. "But that hardly screams 'I want to pretend to blow you up so I can kidnap and torture you'."

"Except we have no idea what he's been up to for the last decade. Do we?" Nate countered.

"Not really." Hardison answered; not finding anything from a basic google search. "I can try digging…"

"No." Nate shook his head. "No, um… I want you to see if you can hack your way into the Yukon's navigational system instead."

XXXXX

"Who was he?" Cam asked the FBI agent.

"Name was Horvat." Booth answered as he handed the pathologist a picture from the FBI database. "Croatian descent. Immigrated here in 2003 and became a US citizen; rumored to be an enforcer in the Israeli crime syndicate in New York. He came on the FBI radar in 2006 when he was brought in on murder charges, but there wasn't enough evidence so Horvat walked."

"Well, he's not walking anymore." Hodgins replied sardonically. "So, what are we thinking? Rival gang or a double cross of his own?"

Booth took a deep breath. "It was an Israeli sniper rifle."

"Inside job; nice." Hodgins eyes widened.

"Pack your bags, Bones. We're going to New York." Booth smiled at her causing her to gleam back.

"Whoa! Wait!" Angela spoke to Brennan. "I know how much you like the fieldwork, but is it really smart for you to go digging around the Israeli mob?"

"Angela, I do this kind of thing all the time." Brennan responded.

"No; no, you don't. We're not talking about your run of the mill serial killer here; this is the Israeli mafia. This is an organization that is trained to murder people that get too close. They are not so keen on getting caught by the FBI."

"I have to agree with, Angie." Hodgins added.

"Thank you."

"Cam?" Brennan asked her boss.

"Hey, it's your call, but if you're asking for my opinion, professionally, we need you too much here, and personally I'd, um… be terrified if you went." Cam responded honestly.

"Nothing's going to happen to me, Booth would make sure…"

"Maybe they're right." Booth responded as he tried to push back images of the job going badly.

"Booth…" She looked crushed. "You can give me my own gun; it's not like I don't know how to use one."

"Bones, they took down Eliot Spencer, one gun is not… two guns is not… it's too dangerous."

"Then it's too dangerous for you to be going without back-up." Brennan appealed to him. "We're partners. I wouldn't be able to focus on anything here…"

"Somehow I doubt that." Booth cut her off knowing full well how intently she's able to focus on her work when her defenses are up. "Okay, but you take my lead, if I tell you to stay back…!"

"I promise." Brennan smiled as she held up her right arm.

XXXXX

His senses came back one at a time as he tried to ascertain where he was and exactly just how much deep shit he was in. If the smell was any indication he was about half way to hell as he was stretched out on a damp slate slab chained down at the wrists and ankles. His head pounded in the rhythm of his heart beat and even the smallest movement caused his stomach to roll indicative of a pretty severe concussion. The worst, though, was the searing pain in his shoulder from the bullet the drove its way through it. As it stood, it seemed medical attention included putting a bandage over the wound to keep him from bleeding out too quickly.

"He's coming to." Eliot heard from the back ground.

"It's about time." Another voice spoke; one that was eerily familiar. Eliot struggled to open his eyes, fighting through the dizziness and the haze. "What's wrong, Spencer, you look like you've seen a ghost?"

Eliot blinked a few more times to make sure he was seeing clearly. "Chapman?" He panted through the pain. "How?"

"Hardly seems possible, now does it? Especially after four bullets to the chest. Maybe we should do a re-creation and figure it out?" The man suggested cruelly as he set the head of a handgun over Eliot's heart.

"Do it." Eliot challenged.

"And put you out of your misery so soon? I don't think so." He removed the gun and zapped the hitter's bare chest with a taser instead; the current amplifying from the puddle under him. The man watched Eliot convulse with a satisfied gleam. "Oh yeah, this is going to be fun."

xxxxx

**So um... raise your hand if you think you were better off not knowing. **


	15. Chapter 15

"The system is cold." Hardison stated still typing away at the laptop.

"What does that mean?" Parker asked him.

"It's dead; the electrical system fried." He clarified.

"Probably at the bottom of the Boston Harbor." Nate responded at he sipped on his coffee mug. Every one of them knew what was hidden inside, and yet held no resolve to stop him.

Sophie pulled Nate to the corner trying to keep her voice low from the others hearing. "Nate, we're stuck, and we don't have the time…. Do you can call Dr. Brennan, just see if…?"

"I…" He took a deep breath; the last thing he wanted was to distract the woman with continuous hounding or invasion of space. "If we don't hear anything in the next hour…"

"In the next hour?" Sophie questioned. "Nate, he could by dying; he could be bleeding out, or…"

"He won't." Nate held her. "He won't give up. Do not underestimate how stubborn that man is. Look, I know its not fun being stuck in a holding pattern, trying to gather recon information when every instinct inside of you is telling you to _do something_, but I promise you we will find him and bring him home."

"It better be in one piece." Sophie huffed.

"Were we expecting company?" Parker asked about the knock on the door.

Nate motioned for the group to scatter not knowing if the person on the other side was an employee of Interpol. Once each of the crew was tucked away he reached the lock allowing Booth and Brennan to enter. "You can come out." Nate instructed.

Booth chuckled as he saw each thief poke their heads out from their placement; Parker's from the ceiling vent. "How did she get there?" He asked.

"We don't even ask anymore." Hardison explained. "I've seen her do it and I still couldn't tell ya."

"Temperance, Booth; this is our… communications expert…. Alec Hardison." Nate introduced them to the remaining team member.

"What kind of 'communications'?" Booth inquired; somehow the name sounded vaguely familiar to him.

"Mostly in the technical support variety." Hardison answered.

"So a hacker." Booth determined. "Wait, aren't you the one…?"

"No; no it was not. I do not have any, any recollections of any wrong doing of any bureau files… or…um… I'm just gonna shut up right now."

"Good idea." Nate commented. "I assume you came because you've heard something?"

"I was able to identify the victim… _using the same software that was tampered with a few years ago_…" Booth directed at the hacker.

"It's still an archaic system that a fifth grader can get into with enough aptitude to put in the cheat codes for Dune." Hardison responded.

"If that's the case then why weren't you the one to identify…?" Booth argued back offended by the dismissive attitude of the bureau's tools. As if Squints weren't bad enough, now he was dealing with a Squint thief.

"Because I wasn't the one with the visual representation to compare to the FBI record bank; what you managed to accomplish is scroll over a nice flashy button that says 'compare', I could teach Megabite to do that." Hardison cut the agent off.

"Enough!" Parker screamed out from the vent.

A moment of silence followed the outburst before Brennan continued. "Using the image from the facial reconstruction Booth was able to get a positive match of the victim; his name was Lucian Horvat."

Nate bowed his head. "I was afraid of that. The vehicle used for this particular mission was rented out under the name of Mr. Horvat; whoever did this wanted us to believe he was the person responsible…"

"How did you…?" Booth questioned.

"Please don't ask." Nate answered back.

"According to sealed records of the guy; he's been an active member of the Israeli mafia since his immigration to the US seven years ago." Booth explained further.

"The Kosher mob?" Sophie shook her head.

"The what?" Parker asked. "Is that even real?"

"Oh it's real." Nate responded. "They have a small presents in Boston, but they're in the big leagues in New York; the operation specializes in drug trafficking."

"What do they have for a cover?" Sophie asked them trying to figure out a way to run a game on them.

"A couple legit businesses." Hardison responded looking up the information. "A bank; of course the stock in that dropped recently and the operation took a financial hit."

"A bank?" Nate questioned. "This hit didn't happen to take place in December?"

"As a matter of fact…" Hardison started. "OH!"

Brennan looked over to Booth to verify if this conversation was something that she should comprehend.

"Damien Moreau." Booth spoke up. The FBI had been aware of his recent visit to DC, but had nothing on the man to nail him for any of his alleged crimes.

"He was the financial backer for the Israeli's?" Sophie concluded as tears dropped down her cheeks.

"Why him?" Parker asked. "We all helped to take down Moreau; why wouldn't they go after all of us?"

"They did." Nate answered. They had; hurt one member and they hurt them all. "They get to torture Eliot while we grieve his death and blame the one person that probably spoke up to defend him."

"That's… that's smart." Hardison replied gravely.

"Too smart." Nate responded. "We're not going to be able to play them; whoever is in charge of the operation already knows our game, and we have no idea where the underground business is do a simple grab and run."

"So we need to send somebody in." Sophie responded.

"Nate just said…" Parker started to talk.

"That they know _our_ game." Sophie stressed the point and then looked over to Booth and Brennan. "It seems to me that they're in need of a little financial bail out."

Booth smiled at the implication. "So I sell myself as the next Damien Moreau."

"It'll be just like Vegas." Brennan added with her own smirk.

"No." Sophie replied. "Zarger isn't going to respond well to an unknown and un-reputable "business man" with the stature of a cop."

Nate's eyebrows rose as he realized Sophie knew exactly who ran the organization. "She's right; it's written all over you."

"Okay, but then…?" Hardison questioned as the grifter's eyes zeroed in on Brennan.

"No." Booth responded. "No! You're not…!"

"Me?" Brennan questioned. "Take the lead? No, Booth I'm not… I mean, my acting has gotten better… right?"

"Better." Booth confirmed.

"It's fine. I'll run you through the whole thing." Sophie explained.


	16. Chapter 16

"Bones is not going into the Lion's den alone." Booth objected.

"She won't be; she'll have her bodyguard." Sophie explained directing her gaze back at the agent.

"I thought you said he looked too much like a cop?" Brennan questioned.

"To pay the banker, yes." Nate responded leaving out that playing the banker's bodyguard was an entirely different scenario. "My question to you, Special Agent Booth, is how willing are you to take down the Kosher mob?"

"What do we have to do?" Booth deferred to the mastermind; isn't wasn't so much about taking down the mob as it was rescuing an old friend, but he wasn't willing to argue the cause.

"First things first, I need Temperance to go back to the lab and declare Eliot Spencer dead. While you're doing that Hardison will set you up your identities and transportation to New York."

"But he's not…" Brennan started to say having a difficult time wrapping her mind around fabricating information in her otherwise scientifically conclusive charts.

"Bones, please. For me." The agent begged her knowing how much it went against every fiber of her being to do so, but he also agreed that this was probably the only way to keep Spencer alive long enough to be able to track him down.

"Okay." She conceded.

"What about the rest of us?" Parker asked.

"We are going back to Boston." Nate answered. "To plan a memorial."

"No." Sophie shook her head. "No, I can't."

"Sophie, we have to. We have the Israeli mob and Interpol watching our every move, they need to believe that we think he's dead." Nate tried reasoning with her.

"Besides, it's not like we haven't pretended to have memorials before." Parker reminded her.

"That's different." Sophie argued.

"How?" Hardison asked.

"Because I was right there; you knew where I was and that I was okay." She choked out.

"Soph…" Nate put a hand on her shoulder.

"No." She pushed away. "I can't!"

"Okay… that's fine. We'll work it out." Nate understood. There had to be some way to make it look like she booked her own little holiday to England. "You can stay here and help them stock up on what they'll need."

"If you want, my place has more than enough room." Brennan offered her knowing they planned to check out soon.

"That would be great. Thank you." Sophie offered her sincerity.

"Back to the Jeffersonian?" Booth prompted Brennan after she wrote down her address and handing Sophie that and her key.

The crew watched the pair leave and stared at each other in silence for a few moments trying to process the information received.

"Do you know every mobster alive?" Nate finally broke the awkward silence to ask their grifter.

"No; but Annie Croix does." She smirked briefly.

"Why not let Annie Croix make the deal?" Parker questioned not liking the idea of allowing strangers with no real grifting experience pull off their most important job to date.

"Because right now Annie Croix is an enigma; we can use it to sell the story but Zarger can't know it's me." Sophie explained.

"What can I do to help?" Parker looked feebly to Nate as Hardison and Sophie had been given assignments.

"Right now? Just sell the story." Nate responded figuring she would play a heavier role once intel was in as to where Eliot was being held. Parker nodded ready to leave the city now knowing there was nothing left to be found there.

XXXXX

The next time Eliot woke up he was chained upright to the ceiling with his toes barely grazing the floor and the stress of his whole body weight pulling agonizingly hard against his already brutalized shoulder. Eliot attempted to push through it by adjusting his weight toward his stronger arm audibly groaning in the process.

"Sorry about that. Gotta figure the bed was more comfy, but then again I couldn't have you choking on your own vomit." The man sneered back at him. The acid taste in his mouth and burning pit that was his gut confirmed that his concussion had gotten the better of him.

"How? Who are you?" Eliot panted out again.

"All brawn there, honey? Didn't figure it would take too much brain to piece together. No need to strain yourself. Your colleague forget to tell you he had a brother?" The man sneered at him. "You know that theory that a twin can feel pain with the same intensity as their injured counterpart? I didn't buy it; I didn't, not until you proved me wrong."

"'Itsa mistake keeping me alive." Eliot huffed out.

"Is Spencer ready to throw in the towel already?"

"They'll find me. When they do, I'll make it worse for you."

"Who? You're little band of misfits? Sorry to disappoint, but they think you're dead. While they're mourning your passing I get to savor watching the infection eat you whole. Took Horvat three days to kick it, I'm hoping you have the strength to hold out for a little more."

"Lucian?" Eliot choked.

"Yeah, sorry about that, apparently he had a soft spot for you. 'Course it came in handy when I needed someone to take the wrap for your death."

Eliot clenched his eyes tight focusing his energy inward.

"You can feel it, can't you? Infection seeping into the blood stream making its way into that black pit you call a heart and spreading through every vein in your body. It won't be long before you're begging for mercy."

Eliot forced his eyes open staring directly at his assailant. "Not gonna happen."

"You sure about that? Yosef!" Chapman called over a thug with a bat in hand striking from behind three times over Eliot's right kidney as he held in any exclamation of pain. Yosef wound up for another hit before Chapman stopped him from doing any fatal damage. "You're stubborn; I'll give you that."


	17. Chapter 17

"Brennan, are you sure about this?" Cam asked Bones ready to make the official call.

Brennan reluctantly nodded as she considered the greater good argument; the human factor that she intended to avoid when she went into the field of studying bones.

She liked catching the bad guys, though. She felt good knowing that what she did could prevent future gratuitous deaths.

"Okay." The pathologist picked up the telephone to report the murder of Eliot Spencer to the FBI. As the call was being placed Booth ushered Brennan out of the office to assure that she was absolutely comfortable with the plan.

"I know how much I'm asking, and if it's too much…"

"It's not." She interrupted him. "I know this is the right thing to do. I just never thought that overlooking the facts and contriving evidence would be the right thing, and if it is then…"

"What are we doing?" Booth finished her thought for her.

"Yeah."

"Shades of gray, Bones. I don't like it any more than you do. The reason we work so well together is because we are both wired with an inherent code of what's right and wrong and this case completely throws everything we know out the window."

Brennan chuckled. "Leave it to Nathan Ford to convince me that the bad guys can actually be the good guys."

"I'm not sure I'd go that far." Booth grumbled. "Let's just stick with bad guys and… less bad, bad guys."

"In any case, I just let a known thief have access to my apartment, so…?"

"Right." Booth followed her to the parking garage from where he planned on retreating home to pack before meeting back up with his partner.

XXXXX

"Hey." Nate nudged Hardison as they sat on the jet. "You doing okay?"

Nate was seated behind Hardison who was peering outside his window in a trance- like state. "Not really." The hacker admitted. "I mean, I'm with Sophie, man, how do we…? Shouldn't we be focusing on… instead of…?"

"Hardison," Nate started to explain, again.

"I know, I mean, I get it. Rationally this is the right move, but…" Hardison's voice started to crack. He looked over at the sleeping Parker in the seat next to him hoping not to disturb her. "But… it's E; he's family, man. This is wrong, we should be out there doing something."

"We are doing…"

"I don't mean planning a fucking funeral." Hardison gritted out.

Nate glanced around at the children loading into their seats which didn't appear to faze the hacker. He replied back at quietly as he could allowing the hacker to hear him. "This isn't what I want to be doing either, but if we're going to stand any chance in getting him back we need to play this smart. That means not giving the mob a reason to kill him."

"No; just keep him around to torture."

"He can handle it." Nate did his best to pacify the younger man's concerns. "At least long enough for Temperance to track his whereabouts."

"That's a lot of faith you have in that friend of yours. A friend that just happens to be quite chummy with the FBI."

"You know, in some circles that's not a bad thing." Nate reminded him.

"In ours it is; in Eliot's it is."

"Except when that agent is a friend of his."

"Huh?" Hardison questioned.

"Yeah, an old military buddy. He wants to find Eliot alive just as much as we do, and considering the Israeli's aren't aware of that link, I say we let him. Meanwhile, we do what we have to in order to ensure that it happens."

"Just because he knew him once upon a time doesn't mean there's any current loyalty. I saw it in his eyes, man, given another situation that agent would be more than willing to put any one of us behind bars."

"If you can't trust him…"

"I can't." Hardison cut him off.

"Then can you at least trust Sophie? She's the lead on this one."

Hardison sat silently for a moment before reluctantly nodding his head as the plane began to taxi out.

'We'll get him back.' Nate thought to himself. 'We have to.'

XXXXX

"No; no; no." Sophie ruffled through Brennan's closet looking for anything for the anthropologist to wear that would sell the part. "Maybe." She came across something that she flung onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" Brennan questioned as she found her new roommate casually dismantling her living space. Part of her wanted to dive into a full on lecture about the cultural significance of control over ones living space and the sense of a metaphorical loss when that's been unwantedly tampered with; however, her own surprise left her speechless.

"No time to shop." Sophie explained, never thinking she'd ever hear those words escape her lips. "This will have to do." She held out dark pinstripe pant suit. "Besides, it's all about the accessories."

"Ms. Devereaux…" Brennan started.

"Sophie, please." She corrected as she passed Brennan the trench coat she had brought with her. "You can use this. Eight, right?" Sophie pointed at the other woman's feet. To which Brennan nodded and Sophie pulled out pumps from her purse.

"You keep shoes in your pocketbook?"

Sophie smirked. "That was Eliot's reaction… although you wouldn't believe how often it comes in handy; how often it makes the character."

"Shoes?" Brennan questioned.

"Yes, shoes." Sophie confirmed. "The devil's in the details. Anyone can have one good suit, but walk in wearing a $1,500 pair of Louboutin pumps and you're making a statement."

Brennan nodded admiring the footwear. "This should be you."

"No." Sophie shook her head. "The key to the grift is to trust the character to give the mark what they want. You have to dissociate yourself from the story you're providing."

"Emotionally detached." Brennan understood; it was something she was very familiar with. She went into the practice of identifying bones to try to maintain that level of objectivity.

"I can't remain impartial. Not with this." Sophie started to choke up. "Temperance, I need you. Nate needs you."

"I wished he would have asked for my help before." Brennan stated despondently. She knew all the experts in the scientific community, most of them on a first name basis.

"He's asking now."

"I… I won't let you down." Brennan promised.

"Thanks." Sophie whispered as a tear slipped down her cheek. She brushed it away. "Do you have a jewelry box…?"

"Here." Brennan brought the box over to her bed where Sophie was sitting. Most of her collection was tribal works that she had picked up in her travels, but she hoped there was something the grifter could find that would fit the role.


	18. Chapter 18

"Hey Bones," Booth stopped her outside the deli in downtown Manhattan, "last chance, are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm not going to back out." She responded emphatically. He knew that, the woman was too courageous for her own good, or at least, for his own good. He had to admit, though, Sophie knew what she was doing. Bones looked the part from head to toe, now it was just a matter of acting it out in front of a live audience with a mob boss in the front row seat.

Booth shook his head, and hesitantly pulled out the ear piece from his pocket to hand to her. "Speak normally; she can hear you just fine." He cautioned as she placed the device into her ear.

"Sophie." Brennan called out over the com.

"I'm here." She replied, sipping on tea at the coffee shop down the street. "These are the most technically advanced coms in existence. They can pick up any normal range conversation. Don't worry about getting too close or having to repeat back what has been said to you; I can hear it. Act naturally; I'm a thought in your head. Under no circumstances should you respond directly back to me, do you understand?"

"I understand." She affirmed, not particularly keen to the patronizing subtext of the last statement, but she understood the gravity of the situation at hand and thus the importance that she fully comprehended how to approach the mark.

"Okay, good. You want to present yourself as influential and savvy, without being too overpowering. You strike a guy in the balls your first round in, and you're never getting under the covers…"

"I don't…" Brennan started to say as Booth shook his head.

"Just let him be the man." Booth offered instead, listening on with his earpiece in place.

"Flirt with him," Sophie advised, "but maintain a level of professional distance; you want to work with him, but he's not the only card in the deck…"

"You have other options." Booth clarified to the rationalist.

"Basically, he needs you more than you need him." Sophie explained. "If he asks for time to think about it, don't flinch, hand him your card and tell him you'll be looking forward to his call shortly."

"Eliot doesn't have…"

"I know." Sophie cut off the anthropologist. "There's nothing that turns a powerful man off more than desperation."

After a brief moment of pause Booth looked over at Brennan. "Let's do this?"

"Let's do this." She responded back.

Brennan strode into the deli where she was lead into a back room full of men, all but one backed away upon her entry as Booth stood cautiously at the door. Zarger stood from his seat as she extended her right hand to which he greeted with a kiss to the dorsum. "Ms. Keenan."

"Mr. Zarger." She responded back with a smile, finding him not-unpleasant to gaze at.

"My friends call me Noah." He hinted.

_'What do your associates call you?'_ Sophie whispered into her ear, which Brennan repeated.

"All business, then?"

_'It doesn't have to be_. Seem interested._'_ Sophie instructed and Brennan followed.

"It's a nice place you have here." Brennan complimented.

"It is one of my smaller acquisitions. Makes a good base, plus the Matza ball soup is the best in the state."

"I should try it, when I have a little more time."

"Busy schedule, then?" He responded.

'Don't answer, make it seem like you're leaving that up to him.' Sophie directed.

"I'm sure you've heard that my partner and I are branching out. With the trade in this region it seems only appropriate." Brennan started delivering the hook.

"What I've heard is that you and Ms. Croix are looking for an avenue to take in dirty money and make it clean."

"And I've heard that your clean businesses are having a little trouble staying afloat with the crash of the resent market."

"So, you're offering your own 'bailout plan', as it were?"

"Quite possibly." She smirked. "I would need to see the whole operation, though. Make sure we're making a solid investment."

"Of course." He responded. "But, the thing is, I typically like to get to know a person a little bit better before getting into bed with them."

"I don't think…" _"What did you have in mind?"_ Sophie cut Brennan off.

"What do you have in mind?" Brennan added.

"You wanted to see the operation? How about a private tour this evening of some of the more reputable sites? You, me, no guards."

It took everything in Booth not to blurt out his objection.

"I'll bring the champagne." Brennan agreed handing her card over as they finalized a meeting spot.

"Are you nuts?" Booth yelled as they both hit the fresh air.

"This is what we wanted, right? He's on the hook, plus, this tour may serve to narrow down places that they're keeping Eliot."

"She's right." Sophie stated over com. "I can have Hardison pull up the schematics of these sites to see if there are any locations that would be optimal for…"

"Torturing the life out of a man and disposing of the body." Booth colored the picture. "I don't like it."

"You don't have to." Brennan challenged him.

"The coms are equipped with GPS. We can follow behind." Sophie offered.

"If lays one hand on you, this whole thing is off." He warned. He wanted badly to find Eliot, but not at the risk of losing Brennan.

"Sophie, I think we need to go shopping." Brennan stated as she got as much of a blessing out of her partner as she was going to get.

Sophie perked up briefly at that notion.

XXXXX

Nate walked into the mortuary alone. He couldn't ask either Hardison or Parker to assist in the task of picking out a coffin.

"May I help you?" The elder attendant asked morosely.

"Yeah, um… I guess. I'm looking for something simple, but eloquent… um… maybe a darker wood."

"This isn't your first time doing this." The man observed.

"No." Nate shook his head.

"Well, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks."

"Have you made arrangements to where you're holding the service? We have a package which includes embalming the deceased…"

"That won't be necessary." Nate stopped him, obviously agitated.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I… the remains were pretty much destroyed."

"A friend? Brother?" The attendant asked.

"Yeah." Nate answered dropping the conversation as he was directed towards an American style paulownia wood casket. "I'll take it."

"Are you sure? We have…"

"I'm sure." Nate responded needing to leave that place.

"I'll need you to fill out some paperwork for the transfer to the memorial. Will that be at the cemetery?"

Nate nodded as he sat down to fill in the information and handed over his credit card. He looked over the sheets and watched as his vision swam in and out of focus as he filled in Eliot's information suddenly relieved that neither of the others came with him. The attendant returned with Nate's card, receipt, and a Kleenex in hand. Taking the papers back the man replied. "If there's anything else we can do for you, please let us know."

Nate nodded, not trusting his own voice. As he walked out he couldn't help feeling that dread inside of him that maybe this was real. The remains being buried may not be his, but it didn't mean the result weren't the same; that the life and the friend they were remembering wasn't lost.

XXXXX

"It took me awhile to find it, but the life of great and powerful Eliot Spencer reduced down to a tiny blurb. Not even a picture." Chapman dangled the obituary page of the Boston newspaper in Eliot's face. Eliot barely reacted with an eye roll; however, that had more to do with his strength being used to keep himself conscious knowing he was in desperately bad shape.

"The memorial is the day after tomorrow. I'll have it taped for you if you promise to hold out that long." The man grinned. In the time spent with the sadistic bastard, Eliot learned, more than anything, the man liked listening to himself talk. He may have had the same face as the older twin, but this… Aaron… didn't have the same skill or discipline to move up the ranks of Moreau's organization that his brother had.

"Your boss…" Eliot coughed, "know… 'bout your lil' side project?"

"That doesn't sound good." Aaron remarked. "More water?"

Eliot shook his head no knowing that would follow would be a dousing from a bucket of ice cold, bacteria ridden, sewer water over open wounds.

"You're no fun. Does he know? Of course he does. He wasn't too happy about losing his banker; he wanted to kill you all, but I was the one that convinced him that this was the best way to make you all suffer. Besides without you, the rest of them are all sitting ducks."

Eliot felt his heart speed up with that final statement, willing himself to hang on, and praying to whatever force was out there that Nate knew better than to give up. Whatever was said in that paper was a scam, a con, it had to be.


	19. Chapter 19

"I'm starting to feel like I should be worried." Hodgins commented as he, once again, found his wife staring at Spencer's image on her computer.

"When is Cam releasing the remains?" Angela asked him.

"I'm not sure; soon. Why?"

"I feel like we're missing something. What do we actually know about Horvat's death?"

"What do you mean?" Hodgins questioned. "He…"

"How did he die? When did he die? Where did he…?" Angela listed. "These are all facts we would be looking to find if it was any other case."

"He was found in a garage; blown up…"

"We don't know if that's what killed him; for all we know he bled out from the shoulder wound. If so, did that happen before or while he was transported to Boston?"

"Why does that matter?" Hodgins asked her. "Booth looked; there's no family out there searching for his death record. His body is being planted in someone else's plot."

"It matters because Eliot has the same injury!" She replied back angrily. There was something about the time she spent with Parker that pulled on her heart strings a little harder than most. With all the remains that had entered the Jeffersonian, after a while, there was a natural dissociation that inevitably took place, but meeting the group, and knowing what he meant to them made this one stand out.

"Is this a hormone thing?" Hodgins asked regretting the question as soon as he spit it out.

"No; it's not." She huffed. "Sweetie, he's on borrowed time. We don't know how much, and it's already been a full 24 hours. Brennan's out there risking her life to try to find him before it's too late. There has to be more we can do to help."

"That's not fair; you know I can't resist that pout." He commented. "I just don't know what I can do. There's no bugs to ascertain time of death and no dirt to analyze where he was shot; any evidence we may have had was torched."

"What about infection?" Angela asked him.

"Bone marrow." Hodgins gave a half smile. "Different environmental factors can contribute to the spread of sepsis throughout the bloodstream… If it's present… Angie, you're a genius."

"I know." She smirked. "Now go!"

He gave her a peck on the cheek before bolting off to find the remains before they were sent off for transport to Boston.

XXXXX

"Yeah, that will be fine. Thank you." Nate responded as he finished the phone call.

"Was that the minister?" Parker asked from the kitchen looking through his cupboards for sugary cereal.

Nate nodded. "When did you get here?"

Parker shrugged. "Oooh, fruit loops!" She found them tucked away in her hiding spot.

"Parker, what are you doing here?" He joined her in the kitchen to pour himself some coffee.

"I wanted to know if there was anything I could do." She admitted quietly. "I didn't want to be alone."

Nate knew what it took for her to admit that. "I would have thought that Hardison…"

"He's, um… kind of lost behind the computer screen trying to find out everything he can about the Israeli's business dealings, offices, associates… anything."

"I see." Nate took a sip of the warm liquid. "Parker, I swear, as soon as we have a lead you're expertise will be crucial in getting him out of wherever he is, but…"

"I could make calls; I know you hate doing it. I know it reminds you of…"

"Parker!" He interrupted her.

"I don't care." She responded.

"What?"

"I know I should, but I don't."

"Huh?" He asked again.

"That guy; whoever he is. He's not Eliot, so… I… I don't care. So, if making phone calls to some minister or florist is going to help then I can do it."

"I've already taken care of all of that." Nate explained. "It's done. Now we just have to wait and hope that we can figure out where he is being held before we have to go through with this farce."

"You're scared." Parker noticed; she got the same feeling from Hardison that if something didn't happen quickly they may be too late.

"Sophie said the first meeting went well; Temperance is getting a tour tonight. Hopefully we can use that to narrow down where they might be keeping him."

"Do you think he knows?" Parker asked.

"Knows what?"

"About the funeral; I mean… if he's being kept alive it's to suffer, right?"

Nate nodded.

"What's worse than thinking the people you care about have given up on you?"

"I don't know." Nate put his hand on the thief's knee knowing that she had a history of adults 'giving up on her'. "But I have to believe that he knows better than that."

"How?"

"The same way you had to believe that he wasn't gone." Nate explained. "The alternative just isn't possible, right?"

Parker smirked. "Right."

"Yeah, I'm scared." Nate answered her previous statement. "But I also think you had the right idea; there's no reason to set ourselves up for the worst, not when there's still options out there. Eliot knows us better than we know ourselves. He does… he's this silent observer, always trying to be two/three steps ahead…"

"To keep us out of trouble." Parker smiled.

"To protect us." Nate concurred. "In order to do that he's studied us; our strengths, weaknesses, the way we think. There's no way he's going to believe we collectively gave up, which means he's either going to find a way to come back to us or hold out long enough for us to find him."

"Okay." She nodded and starting digging her spoon into the bowl.


	20. Chapter 20

This was typically Sophie's favorite aspect of the job; creating the character, developing the role, and dressing to the part. She loved it. As part of a group she appreciated it more. She felt like it was her expertise that she could hand down to the younger members; her own thumbprint; her legacy.

"How about this one?" Brennan asked stepping out from the dressing room for the fifth time.

Sophie nodded. The dress was the perfect combination of 'drive him crazy' and 'take me seriously' that she was going for.

"Okay; good." Brennan replied willingly accepting Sophie as the expert in this regard as she failed to see the difference in style between the dress she was wearing and the third one she tried on. "I was hoping that after I change I could treat you to some lunch."

"I'm not really hungry."

Brennan assumed that would be the reply, but she also knew that if it were Booth or Angela there that they would make sure Sophie was being looked after. "I, too, find it difficult to think about food while working a case, but metabolically, in order for your brain to process at its full capacity…"

Sophie chuckled in response. "I'm going to get a lecture if I don't agree, aren't I?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm not great in the art of persuasion, but you do need to sustain your energy. We don't know how long this is going to take." Brennan responded, often reverting to the method of logic and reason.

"Playing to your strengths; that's a good start." Sophie assured her. "Sure; there's a restaurant in the hotel. We can see if Booth has found anything in those NYPD files."

XXXXX

"Hodgins." Cam announced her presence as he peered through the microscope.

"Yeah." He looked up startled.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Angela said that you were looking into something. I thought you should know, they're moving the body in T-minus five minutes."

"Oh, thanks, but I got everything I need right here." He smiled.

"Really?" She questioned, knowing that proud 'I'm a genius' smirk.

"Come here." He beckoned to his computer screen.

"How did I miss that?" She pondered looking at a toxicology report from the marrow.

"Because we weren't looking for it." Hodgins answered.

"This is a good case for cause of death." Cam identified. "But that doesn't explain why you're sporting the 'King of the Lab' grin. How does identifying an infection help us?"

"He lasted 70, 75 hours tops."

Cam glared back at him, urging the explanation.

"He didn't bleed out. The killer made sure of it, but the conditions weren't conducive to extended torture. Something accelerated the spread of sepsis in the bloodstream."

"How about we just skip right to the part where you tell me where he was killed?" She responded connecting the dots between the accelerant and the environment where the victim was held.

"Underground; probably an abandoned Subway route off the East river in Manhattan."

"Great." Cam took out her phone and started walking about.

"Wait, don't you want to know how…."

"Save it for the report." She yelled back.

XXXXXX

Booth sat in the restaurant sipping on coffee when Sophie and Brennan approached and riffling through the NYPD files on Zarger and known associates. "I hope your search was more successful than mine." He replied throwing down the paperwork.

"By the looks of things, it seems so." Brennan observed his frustration. "Booth, what were you hoping to find?"

"Why? I mean… why? Why keep him…? Zarger is a business man, plain and simple, so… why does this seem so personal?" He knew there was something he was missing.

"Well… what are the reasons you would torture someone?" Brennan questioned.

"Information or vengeance." Booth answered. "This has vengeance written all over it, but the motive doesn't fit. At least not for Zarger. I think someone else inside that organization is pulling the strings; someone with a vendetta."

"Can I see those? Did you find anyone with links to Moreau?"

"No; all this information and not even a mention of Moreau or any of his holding companies. That guy; he's an enigma. Everyone knows who he is…"

"But there's never a paper trail. Any… complication gets taken care of; off the books." Sophie finished.

"How were you able to detain this enigma?" Brennan questioned.

"We stole a country." She stated casually.

"You did what?" Booth questioned.

She waved him off. "Trust me, you don't want the details. We were able to convince the President of San Lorenzo to consider him an enemy of the State, and since there's no extradition treaty he's stuck there behind bars."

"What about his lieutenants? He doesn't seem like the type to get his hands dirty." Booth inquired.

"He's not." Sophie replied thinking back to the meeting in the park and Eliot's confession, or lack of. "He contracts help and not the cheap stuff either. They're not hurting for employment. Not even in this economy. It hardly gives any credence for vengeance."

"Still…" Booth shrugged. "A list of names couldn't hurt. I'm getting nothing with this."

"I can ask Nate. He was doing research on Moreau for a good six months before we took our shot."

"Can I ask why this is important?" Brennan stepped in to the conversation.

"Bones, we've talked about this…"

"I understand the importance of motive when putting together a criminal case." She interrupted having learned that much through her work with the agent. "But even if we do come up with a name how does that help us find where Eliot is being detained?"

Booth sighed. "Just trying to piece together the story. Hang on." He stated as he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

**XXXXXX**

**Sorry, it's taken SOOOO long. Bad case of writers block. And another apology for complete lack of scientific knowledge while trying to tackle characterization of the genius' on 'Bones'. **


	21. Chapter 21

"Any final questions?" Sophie asked Brennan as she finished styling the forensic anthropologist's hair.

Brennan had all kinds of doubts swimming around in her head about her ability to lead Zarger in the general direction of Spencer's whereabouts, and coax the crime lord to admit key information about his business enterprises; however, her main concern was holding up the act long enough to ward off suspicion. "What if he asks about me?"

"We've already talked about your back story. Beyond that, be as honest as you can. Keep it natural, make him laugh, and remember, it's okay to remain a bit of a mystery."

"That seems easier said than done."

"That's what this is for." Sophie handed her back her ear piece.

"I guess I'm ready." Brennan responded after putting in the piece.

"Almost." Sophie stated handing over a box of champagne.

XXXXXX

"What do you got there?" Hardison looked over at Nate's computer screen as he handed the mastermind some Chinese take-out.

"Booth sent me some of the files from the New York Police Department." Nate explained.

"Hoping to find…?" Hardison questioned.

"A connection to Moreau." Nate answered still flipping through the names and pictures; his eyes focused on the screen.

"Him." Hardison announced as a picture appeared.

"What?" Nate broke gaze to look at the hacker.

"He looks familiar." Hardison responded thinking about to his 'encounter' with Moreau in the hotel. "Chapman." The hacker remembered. "That's what Eliot called him. He had, um… taken over Eliot's position as Moreau's right hand assassin. Probably would have taken out Atherton if we hadn't stepped in."

"So he was in DC?" Nate questioned.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because it says here that Aaron Chapman was brought in for questioning on the disappearance of a local drug dealer, James Perry, in October of 2006 leading me to believe he's been working with Zargar for at least that long, and..." Nate's voice started to trail off.

"And what?" Hardison pressed.

"Ah… nothing… it's just… it's just not adding up."

"What do you mean it's not adding up? We have a connection between Zarger, Moreau, and Eliot. Maybe he DID work for Zarger in 2006 before moving up the ranks and taking a more prodigious position working directly for Moreau. With Moreau behind bars he could have gone back to New York and convinced Zarger to seek retribution against the guy responsible for his pay cut. We find him and we should find…"

"He should be dead." Nate interrupted him.

"What?" This time Hardison questioned. "What do you mean dead?"

"I mean shot to death and blown up in an abandoned warehouse." Nate admitted for the first time since promising Eliot that he wouldn't. "There was a leak in information. The Italian's cover was blown and Moreau led us into a warehouse where she was tied up. His men, over a dozen, had to have been, followed us in fully armed with orders to kill."

"How did you get out?" Hardison questioned.

"She and I ran for it. Eliot was the diversion."

"You mean, he…?"

"Yeah." Nate swallowed a lump in his throat having already told Hardison how it ended.

"Maybe Chapman got out. I mean, with all the chaos, he could have escaped, right?"

Nate shrugged his shoulders trusting that Eliot knew better than to leave a loose end when he stated that it was 'taken care of'. "Eliot didn't seem to think so. Look, either way, it wouldn't hurt looking into this guy. Check out any property he may own in the New York area. Any credit activity in last 6 months?"

"I'm on it."

"Oh, and Hardison. That… that stays between us."

Hardison nodded.

XXXXX

"Ms. Kennan, don't you look lovely tonight." He kissed her hand and pointed her in the direction of the open limousine door.

"Please, call me Joy." She responded and handed him the gift. "I'm a woman of my word."

"So I see; hopefully before nights end we can crack into that and celebrate the beginnings of a fruitful partnership."

"I'd like that, of course there is that small matter of…."

"Firsthand knowledge of the interworking's of the company, of course." He interrupted. "Could I interest you in some dinner first?"

"I could be persuaded." Brennan smiled. "A colleague of mine told me about this place. He said if I was ever in Manhattan I had to try it, um… Lakeside… no Riverway or… River-something."

"Riverpark, good choice. There's a spectacular view of the East River, absolutely remarkable at this time of the evening." He assured her before giving the driver directions.

'Nice job.' Sophie encouraged her.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did a beautiful and intelligent woman like yourself get involved in such a… what's the word… 'messy' business like this?"

"Opportunity." Brennan answered as Sophie fed the line over the com. "If you haven't noticed we're living in a world where the rich get richer, the poor get poorer. You can go to college, get a degree and earn what? $40-50,000 a year on average. Get a doctorate and you may make a little more. I guess I could do that, or I can carve my own opportunities and make a whole lot more."

"So this is about money?"

"And travel." She answered. "Interesting people, fancy parties, and… pretty things. Why, what does it mean to you?"

"Respect." He responded. "Something my people aren't accustomed to receiving."

"So you take it." Brennan replied back. "Is that respect or is it fear."

Zarger shrugged. "Six of one…" He responded casually as the driver pulled up to the restaurant.


	22. Chapter 22

"You weren't kidding about the view. It's incredible. You can see everything." Brennan admired.

"Not everything." Zarger boasted. "No, what you see here is what the public wants to see; the picture perfect image of the land of opportunity. They don't want to think about the underbelly of the beast. What we have here is a full purpose port; foreign trade coming in and out, 13 working tunnels, and a Jewish mayor."

"The perfect combination." She approved. "How many non-working?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said thirteen working tunnels. I can only imagine there's a few more this 'Jewish mayor' isn't advertising on the city brochure."

"A few." Zarger smirked. "One or two connected to piers owned by Kavod Ltd."

"The holding company?" Brennan questioned. "That's you?"

"Are you impressed?"

"I had my reservations when my partner mentioned your operation; with the dip in the current market your foundation appeared, well… shaky."

"I can assure you, Joy, the groundwork is quite solid."

"I see that." She responded back. "But I have to ask, has there been any unsolicited attention with the investigation into Moreau's assets?"

Zarger chuckled. "No. The initial charges brought up against Moreau were found baseless once investigated. There was no connection to this or any other organization bankrolled by Moreau."

"Then why hasn't he been released from federal custody?"

"That's because he got himself out of dodge before taken into federal custody." Zarger explained. "Unfortunately, he was later apprehended by some sort of vigilantism. However, not to worry, that's being taken care of as well. I can assure you that I take my partnerships very seriously."

Sophie grimaced from the car her and Booth had parked around the corner from the restaurant. She listened to Brennan's pause knowing that the doctor was waiting for the next directive. Part of Sophie desperately wanted to pursue a line of questioning leading straight to Eliot's whereabouts, but she knew it would spark suspicion and Zarger would clam up long before he gave up anything. 'That aspect of your reputation precedes you. If there's one thing lacking in this day in age it's honor.' She recited for Brennan.

"Hey, are you okay?" Booth looked over to Sophie.

She nodded her head 'yes' as her lip quivered. "Yeah; yeah, fine. Um… can you call Nate? Have Hardison look up land acquisitions by Kavod Ltd. Ask him to find out what piers they own and see if we can locate schematics of the connecting tunnels. They should be able to compare the plans to the current subway route to figure out which ones are active."

"Sure." He responded, knowing there was no way she was as 'fine' as she claimed she was, but then again until this case was solved he knew she wouldn't be. He wanted to give some kind of placating statement that everything was going to be okay, but it sounded hallow to himself. Instead he took out his earpiece in order to contact the mastermind.

XXXXX

"Agent Booth?" Nate answered on the other end.

"We got the name of the holding company Zarger uses for control of the docks. Have your guy look up the acquisitions of 'Kavod Ltd'. Sophie seems to think he can hack into the plans and compare the tunnel system with the NY Subway system, figure out which tunnels are active."

"Okay." He gave a sigh of relief. "Yeah, good. We have more for you, too. Chapman, Aaron Chapman. We believe there's a connection between him and Moreau. I figure the FBI might have a more comprehensive file than the NYPD."

"I'll check it out." Booth responded. "You think he might be in charge of this particular mission?"

"If he's alive, I'd put my life savings on it." Nate assured him.

"If?"

"It's up for dispute."

"All right. I'll see what I can find." Booth replied before ending the call.

"So?" Hardison looked over at the mastermind from his laptop.

"You find any credit cards?"

"Not under that particular name." Hardison replied. "Anything he might have held would be under a different alias, which I have no way of knowing so basically…"

"I need you to switch gears. They may have found a way to find him." Nate interrupted giving him the information that Booth had just provided. Hardison was just about to enter the information into his browser when there was a knock on Nate's door. Both were unsure of who to expect. In caution Nate directed the hacker to hide as he walked towards the entrance.

"It's not a good time." Nate stated as he opened the front door.

"I've heard. I came to give my condolences." Sterling explained his presence.

Nate shook his head. "No, you didn't. What do you really want?"

"No faith. As your former friend…"

"We were never…" Nate interrupted him.

"As your former colleague I need to remind you the consequences of getting involved in a federal case. I understand that this is personal, but leave the investigation to the professionals." Sterling warned him.

Nate laughed. "You want nothing more than to see me behind bars."

"No; I want to see your team behind bars." Sterling clarified. "Hell, I want nothing more than the satisfaction of being the person that put them behind bars, but you, you're a good man. You can get out, right now. Go to that funeral and put this angry, revenge driven side of you to rest before you bury every one of them."

Nate shook his head in a combination of annoyance and exhaustion. "I'll take it under advisement."

"No, you won't." Sterling stated confidently. "We are watching. No heroics, Nate. If you have something, you let me know."

"So once again I can help you further your career? I don't think so." Nate's voice broke. "I'll let the Bureau take this one."

"According to my sources the shooter was a hired Israeli sniper that was spotted leaving for Ben Gurion International at 7:30 yesterday morning. The Bureau doesn't have jurisdiction. If you want this guy caught you need to go through me. Now, I know you, and I know you are looking into who hired this guy and why, so let's work together…"

"I don't know." Nate responded.

"You don't… you really expect me to believe…"

"I don't care what you believe!" Nate yelled. "Do I want revenge? You're damn right I do, but if you can't tell I'm kind of down a retrieval specialist. Which means the who's, and how's, and why's wouldn't really make that much of a difference, now would it? So you can take your phony condolences and get the hell out!"

"Okay, if that's how you want it, but I truly am sorry." Sterling waited for a response. After getting nothing but an angry glare he turned away. Nate slammed the door shut and turned to rest his back against it as he attempted to recollect composure.

"Nate." Hardison said in almost a whisper. "You a'ight?"

In a moment of honesty the mastermind shook his head no. "You um… you find it?"

"The schematics? No. Um… I need access to Zarger's server. I can't do it remotely. If the bone lady could clone his phone I might be able to get in that way."

"We'll figure it out." Nate responded.

"Nate, the shooter is going to get away with this?"

"He's a hired gun, Hardison. If Interpol wants to chase that lead then they can be my guest, but it's not going to get us any closer to finding Eliot. That's priority number one, number two is taking down the guy responsible for hiring the hit."

Hardison nodded.

"Call Booth, instruct him on how to do that clone… thing."

"Got it." Hardison watched Nate fill his glass of whiskey before holding the bottle up in offering. The hacker shook his head no as he dialed.

XXXXX

'Brennan, get him to take you on a walk down the harbor.' Sophie instructed over the com.

"Are you finished with that?" The waiter lifted Brennan's desert plate after she nodded; her focus returning directly back to the mob boss.

"This was delicious, Noah, thank you." Brennan offered.

"Thank you for the suggestion. Should we get back to that tour?"

"I would love that, but do you think there's a way I could stretch my legs first?"

"Yeah. We could watch the sun set over the harbor." He proposed.

"Perfect!" Sophie reacted to the conversation as she dug through her purse.

"What do you need?" Booth asked her.

"This." She pulled out a scarf and wrapped it around her head. "All I have to do it get close enough and 'wallah!' we have his phone."

"His phone? As easy as that? All of his information just copied over…" Booth looked uncertain. "That… that's scary."

"You have no idea." Sophie assured him. She pulled out her phone before getting out of her car waiting for Brennan and Zarger to leave the restaurant.

She hid around the corner watching him hold the door open for the forensic anthropologist before stepping onto the street with her cell in front of her pretending to text as she walked forward.

"Oh, excuse me! I'm so sorry." Sophie apologized in a New York accent after bumping into the man's shoulder. He waved her off before returning his attention to Brennan while she returned to Booth waving the phone in the window as the FBI agent unlocked the door for her.

"That is ridiculously scary." Booth repeated.

"Only in the wrong hands." Sophie assured him.

"You've helped a lot people this way, haven't you?"

"I'd like to think so." She responded. "Before… I never thought about the innocents that may have gotten hurt in the crossfire. I stole expensive things from rich people that could afford to lose it, but what I've learned is that for every con there's a victim. Somebody pays the price, and it's usually that person at the bottom of the totem pole. I can only hope that through this I can help as many people as I've hurt."

"I get that." Booth confessed thinking back to a similar conversation where he admitted to Brennan his plan to save his own soul by putting away as many murders as people he had killed in service.

"You know… it's not the same for Eliot. He doesn't do this to ensure some kind of karmic balance. He doesn't think… he doesn't see himself as the good guy. The punishment, the torture..." She swallowed a lump in her throat. "He thinks he deserves it. He'd gladly take it just as long as… God, I hope he's okay."

Booth held the grifter's hand as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Me too." He admitted. "Me too."


	23. Chapter 23

"Are you ready to go?" Hodgins asked his wife.

"I'm ready for a drink." She stated looking over the empty lab. Hodgins had just completed his notes, long after everyone else had packed up and went home.

"Ang…"

"I know." She replied. "It's just… I hate this part. All the forensics are in and there's nothing we can do but wait until the killer is caught."

"You and I, both." Hodgins concurred. He'd be more than willing to chase down his sorrows right along with her along with their good friend Jose if it weren't for the life she was holding inside her. "Would you be willing to go for a bath and massage instead?"

Angela smirked and nodded. Hodgins took her hand and they left together towards the garage. They were almost home when Angela's phone rang.

"Hello?" Angela answered not recognizing the number on her ID.

"Hi." There was a small voice on the other end.

"Hi, this is Angela Montenegro." Angela stated wondering if it was a wrong number.

"I know." The girl responded.

"Parker?" Angela asked recognizing the voice and the social awkwardness.

"Yeah." Parker answered.

"Parker, is everything okay? How did you get my number?"

"From your phone." The thief answered. She had unwittingly picked it up while she was in Angela's office, returning it back before she left.

"Sweetie, if you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask."

"Oh." Parker responded feeling completely out of place. "I'm sorry. It's just… you seemed nice, and easy to talk to, and Sophie's busy."

"Is that what you need? Someone to talk to?" Angela attempted to understand.

"I don't know what to do." Parker admitted.

"Unfortunately right now there's not a lot we can do except wait." Angela offered.

"How?" The thief questioned completely lost as to how to pass the time. Typically she would go to the grifter about this sort of thing, but she knew Sophie was in the field looking for Eliot.

"If this was any other night what would you normally do?"

Parker thought about the question. "Most of the time we work."

"What do you do when you're not working?"

She shrugged. "Jump off buildings. Break into bank vaults… but I don't steal anything anymore."

"Well, that's good." Angela chuckled.

"But if I do that now I might miss the call." She knew that as soon as a location was discovered Nate was going to need her and she needed to be ready as soon as the call came in.

"It's been a long couple of days, have you tried just laying down and getting some sleep?"

"Can't."

"You can. You just have to put the phone right next to you."

"I can't." She repeated. "I close my eyes and…"

"And your imagination plays tricks on you." Angela understood causing the thief to nod forgetting that the artist couldn't see her. "A trick that works for me is lying down with a good movie on; something light that I've seen before."

"I don't have a TV."

"Do you have music?" Angela asked.

"I have a radio."

"You can try that, and if it doesn't work call me, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweetie. I mean it, anytime." She replied before ending the call.

"What was that all about?" Hodgins asked helping her out of the car.

"Apparently we're not the only ones having difficulty with the waiting part." Angela explained.

XXXXX

Sophie was able to talk Brennan through closing the deal with Zarger before he offered to drop her off.

"That's my girl!" Booth cheered as she finished the close.

"Good." Sophie confirmed over the com as they pulled up to the hotel. "Now, let him know that you'd like to see him again soon, but keep the time frame vague, tell him you need to iron out the details with your partner first."

Booth parked the car before making his way to the doors to have them open for Brennan as she returned. Her evening ended with a respectful kiss to each cheek before confirming that she would be in touch soon. Sophie waited for the limo to pull away before exiting the vehicle.

"How did I do?" Brennan asked the grifter once they were in the room.

"You did great!" Booth answered for her as he pulled out his lap top to follow up on the lead Nate had given him.

"Really? Because I've seen enough interrogations to know that Booth can get a lot more information in much less time just by sitting them in a solitary room."

"You got plenty. Interrogation only works if the mark has something to fear. Zager has so much power and control that a trip to the interrogation room would mean nothing to him."

"She's right." Booth added. "All I would have gotten was a cocky grin and a demand to speak to his lawyer. Without reasonable cause that lawyer would have him out in an hour and harassment charges filed."

"This is why you do what you do." Brennan noted to Sophie.

"It is now." Sophie admitted. "In order to protect the rights of their citizens there's only so much the cops can do. There're rules and regulations and probable cause which are there for good reason, but with enough influence people like Zarger can get around all of that. Sure, eventually they are bound to make a mistake, but how many innocent people suffer before that happens?

"It's not all mobsters, actually, most of our cases are corrupt corporate heads that on the books are doing nothing wrong, but while they make millions people die because they're leaking toxins into their soil or it's cheaper to pay off settlements it is to pull salmonella infected product from their shelves."

"Booth once told me that he'd take a stand up crook over a crooked cop any day of the week. I thought he said it to make me feel better about my dad, but I think I get it now."

Booth smiled at the realization before turning his attention back to the FBI database. "I, um… I found our guy, I think."

"What do you mean you think?"

"Well, I couldn't find Aaron Chapman's file in the database. It seems he's locally tied to Zarger. NYPD has brought him in on a few occasions, but nothing stuck, and nothing to flag the Bureau's interest."

"But…?" Sophie could sense it coming on.

"Well, either Aaron has another identity with the same last name or he has a twin brother named Evan. Evan has been flagged for his ties to the elusive Damien Moreau. He was last spotted in L'Enfant Plaza last December."

"What does that mean?" Brennan questioned.

"It means I need to call Nate." Booth responded before walking away from the girls.

"What do you suppose that's about?" Brennan asked Sophie.

"If I were to venture a guess, I'd say motive." "Dammit Nate!" She whispered the last bit to herself.

XXXXX

"When will people learn?" Hardison pondered to himself as he pulled up the crime lord's server. "Never trust the Iphone."

"You got what we need?" Nate asked still nursing his shot glass.

"Oh, I got it all." Hardison gave his first genuine smile since finding out about the explosion. He brought up the diagram of the purchased land and ports and looked to the mastermind. "You want it in printed form?"

"Please." Nate answered before checking out the number on his ringing phone. "And call Parker over here."

"Sure." Hardison replied as Nate walked away.

"What did you find?" Nate asked Booth.

"Aaron Chapman is alive with no reported connection to Damien Moreau." Booth answered.

"Oh." Nate answered about to hang up defeated before the agent continued.

"His brother Evan, same face and date of birth, was last spotted in DC getting into a cab on 12/19/10 leaving from L'Enfant Plaza at 12:32pm. There're pictures on record of him in conversation with Moreau. He was believed to be first lieutenant, making him a person of interest."

"No sightings after that?" Nate questioned.

"No. FBI was told to keep an eye on Moreau during his visit, but it wasn't until we got the lead from the Boston State Police of criminal activity that we could act on anything and by then he had taken off on his own private jet."

"He had a twin." Nate lamented.

"It looks like, and I have this sneaking suspicion that this twin may have motive to want to see Spencer tortured and killed."

"It's possible." The mastermind offered vaguely.

Booth shook his head as he put the pieces together. "I thought you said he was reformed?"

"Don't tell me you've never had to take a life to preserve your own or protect someone else?" Nate got defensive.

"He was protecting someone?" Booth stated with a hint of sarcasm. "Who was he…?"

"Me."

"I see." The agent replied. "I'll put a request in to have Chapman scouted."

"Thank you." Nate ended the call.


	24. Chapter 24

"He's here." Parker stated pointing to the subway plans. "Let's go!"

"Whoa, mama, you sure?" Hardison asked, watching as she grabbed her coat and headed for the door.

Parker glared at him with a look that said 'do I really have to explain this?'

"Parker, can you…?" Nate responded. "What kind of security system are we up against?"

"For a super-secret underground mob owned distribution system and storage vault? I'm going to guess basic camera on each entrance."

"That doesn't sound too bad." Hardison commented.

"With highly trained assassins carrying military grade weaponry standing guard." Parker added.

"Right." Hardison said sarcastically. "Let's get right on that then. I don't suppose there's some kind of ventilation shaft you could crawl through?"

"In an abandoned subway?" Parker questioned.

"No, we're not going to be able to sneak our way into this one." Nate explained.

"Really? I mean, really? 'Cause usually plan B involves busting some heads to break our way in and in case you haven't forgotten we're kind of down one head buster."

"Then we'll have to improvise." Nate assured them. "Hardison, I need to you take one of Parker's aliases, not Alice White, and get her on a flight to New York asap. Parker, do you think you can get to Logan without Interpol noticing?"

"Not a problem." The thief responded, confident in her ability to lose anyone that attempted to follow.

"You're sending Parker by herself?" Hardison questioned.

"Why? Are you qualified to knock out trained guards?" Nate questioned.

"No, but I might be able to scramble a signal and distract the guards long enough for Parker to get in."

"Which can be done remotely."

"But…"

"Hardison, enough!" Nate yelled. "We have Interpol, the FBI, the State Police, and oh yeah, the Israeli mob, watching our every move. Thanks to us Brennan and her team have committed fraud. Now, if what we're doing gets out too soon to the wrong person… best case scenario is a one way ticket to the Boston State Penitentiary, worst case, Eliot is killed instantly, no questions asked, and then it's our turn."

"Okay." Hardison paused. "I'm sorry, I… how do we do this?"

"We send Parker out to meet up with Sophie. You and I hang back and proceed with the funeral planning. Hopefully, if we can get to him by tomorrow we won't have to go through with it."

"Here's to hoping." Hardison held up his orange soda bottle before going online to check out local flights.

"Nate? Would it be safer to drive?" Parker asked him. "I mean, I could get to the airport just fine, but then I either have to rent a car, which risks another card getting flagged, or have Sophie pick me up, where she could be IDed."

"I want you to be able to get some sleep." Nate told her.

"I won't." Parker responded. "Whether I'm on a plane, in my bed, or a hotel room, it doesn't matter, until… Besides it's only a 5 hour drive, less if traffic isn't too bad crossing the George Washington, and at this time of the night going in shouldn't be a problem."

"Do you have plates…?"

"Yep." She cut him off figuring that Sterling had a list of car models and license plates on record.

"Call me when you get there?" Hardison requested as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I will." She promised. "Have my reservation ready!"

Hardison let her go and shuffled through IDs that he had on hand for her.

"Carrie Fisher? Really? Even I know that one." She questioned as he handed her one.

"Fine, here." He handed her another.

"Mary Tamm. I could look like a Mary." She pondered before pocketing the card and giving Nate a hug.

"Is that…?" Nate asked after the door closed behind the thief. He shook his head to the hacker's nod. "Eliot's right. We have got to get you some new hobbies."

"Where're you going?" Hardison asked as Nate walked towards the kitchen.

Nate held up his phone. "Catching Sophie up."

"Oh, well then. I guess I'll just sit here by myself." He stated to a non-existent audience before scouring for the hotel's website and making the reservation.

XXXXX

"Hey Spencer, you miss me?" Chapman asked the man who was strung up from the ceiling. He slapped his face a few times in attempts to get a response. "Hey; not ready for you to die yet. My brother once mentioned this family in Shiraz you guys took out. Told me it was quite the tale, although, never got around to giving me the details. I guess that's up to you now."

Knowing Eliot was listening yet stubbornly unresponsive Chapman gave him a swift kick to the ribs causing the hitter to grunt. "You really like listening to yourself talk, don't ya?" He finally grated out.

"Look who finally joined the conversation! I wouldn't have to do so much of it if you would join in."

"Sorry." Eliot hissed. "Little busy… bleeding out… here."

"Is that thing still going?" Chapman walked up to the hitter to check on the bandaging over his gunshot wound. "Yosef, grab me some gauze."

As the henchman set down his weapon, Eliot attempted to transfer his weight onto the chains lifting his legs off the ground. He received another blow to his midsection and collapsed down.

"Good; there's still a little fight in you yet." Chapman pressed more bandaging to the wound. "Course, you should probably save it to keep yourself breathing."

"What's the point?" Eliot questioned knowing that that as time went on he was only going to get weaker. At this point, he was relying on either the bad guys making a serious mistake or help to find him. "Die now, die later; seems it's in my best interest to just give it up."

"Maybe." Chapman shrugged. "Not in your nature, though."

"What… would you know… 'bout, m' nature?" Eliot huffed out.

"Enough to know that you're still planning on capitalizing on every error my men may make, and that hope against all hope you still believe there's someone out there that cares enough about your sorry ass to plan an escape for you."

"Only people that would… think I'm dead." Eliot coughed. "Doesn't x'actly lend itself ta.. a great rescue."

"You know, I was a little worried there. Seems your friends didn't think an explosion in your garage was enough. They went and hired themselves a specialist to confirm the results. Seems yours and Horvat's skeleton was similar enough to fool the brightest forensic anthropologist in the nation. Your case is sealed off and determined closed by the FBI."

'Hardly seems possible.' Eliot thought to himself before allowing his body to cave and leave consciousness.


	25. Chapter 25

Parker finished what should have been about a four hour drive in a little less than three. During which she attempted to keep her mind off of the current situation by taking Angela's suggestion of listening to music. Unfortunately, all listening to music did was divert her thoughts to what Eliot would sound like singing the current song, and what it would feel like to never hear his voice again.

"How fast were you going?" Sophie asked as soon as Parker made it up to the hotel room. The grifter had finished her night time moisturizing technique and was about to try calling it a night when the thief knocked on her door.

Parker shrugged. "About speed limit, you know, if the 6 looked more like a 9."

Sophie shook her head. "As long as you didn't get stopped."

"No, Hardison made me a police scanner. I'm all clear. So, what's the plan?"

"Right now?" Sophie asked looking over at the clock. "The plan is sleep."

"But…"

"I know." Sophie responded sincerely. "But we need to be on the top of our game tomorrow. Booth will call me as soon as he has secured the tail on Chapman."

"As long as I'm the one that gets to bury that bastard 6 feet underground."

"Parker?!" Sophie replied astonished.

"What? I'd save Eliot the honor, but I doubt he'll be up to it." Parker replied calmly.

"As it stands it's you and Booth going in, but if you don't think you can keep a cool head…"

"I'll be fine." Parker responded.

"We're working with the FBI, Parker. Any suspicion of illegal activity…"

"I'll be fine." She repeated.

"Priority is getting Eliot back." Sophie stressed.

"I know."

"Okay." She stated looking into the thief's eyes to be sure they were on the same page. "Get some sleep, I mean it."

"Sophie, it's going to be okay, right?" The thief looked back at the woman; her eyes pleading.

"Of course." Sophie responded, watching as the blonde closed the door behind her. _'Liar'_, she whispered to herself.

XXXXXX

"Was he angry?" Brennan asked as she watched Booth end his call with the deputy director.

"That I left the district unannounced to go off on an unassigned case without back-up? Yeah, just a little bit." Booth responded knowing that he was going to return to at least a week's worth of desk peddling duty. "But, the tail is set. Murphy was already in town. He's going to stake out Chapman's house tonight and keep me updated of any movement."

"Until then?" She asked as she felt the adrenaline of the night seep out of her system.

"Until then we try to get some sleep." He responded allowing Brennan lay back using his shoulder as a pillow.

"Maybe we shouldn't." She replied looking up at him as her thoughts went to the full size bed on the other side of the room. Their relationship was complicated, both admitting to feelings beyond friendship at one point or another, but the timing was never right, and they were just getting back into the safe zone where their partnership flourished.

"Maybe." He replied. "But right now, I could use the connection."

Brennan smiled at the admission, and draped her arm over his chest. She knew this case was tougher on him that even he could say aloud, and if an evening of physical connection is what he needed she was more than willing to oblige.

XXXXX

Hardison was sacked out on the couch. After a dispute over where the hacker should spend the evening, as much as Nate wanted to sit alone and drown in his own sorrows, he finally conceding that it probably was for the best that they stuck together. They both knew that once things got started they were going to have to act quickly, and the only way for that to happen was to stay close.

Nate sat with the shot glass of bourbon replaying the events of the past two days in his head. He revisited every decision he made, trying to determine if there was anything he could have done different; anything he could be doing at that moment to assure his colleague, his friend, would return home safely. Unfortunately he was stuck on the thought _'I should have known'_.

He should have known that there were always consequences to behavior. As a group they had gotten away with too much. They had brought down too many people for Karma not to bite them back in a huge way. After further introspection Nate admitted to himself that he did know that the day would eventually come, he just arrogantly thought that he had enough control of the outcome. He was sure that when it was all said and done it would be him that paid the ultimate price. It was his plans, and his crew. He was captain, and if anyone went down with the ship it was supposed to be him.

Nate could hear Sophie's voice in his head telling him that was a cop-out; telling him that this crew was never about his own self-destruction, but instead about building something. It was about building something good, and that when they were ready both could walk away knowing that the next generation could take over where they left off. It was a dream that deep down he wanted; he needed that innocence back, that belief that the grass was greener on the other side and the hope for a legacy that outlived him. Unfortunately that was all lost after Sam died, and now as he was on the verge in believing that it was within his grasp he was on the brink of losing someone else he cared for.

Nate put the glass down, realizing at that moment he was left with only one option. Folding his hands together he prayed; _'Our father who art in heaven…'_


	26. Chapter 26

Parker was already up at the crack of dawn, but since Sophie has told her to try to get "some" sleep she considered it a win. She made her way back to the grifter's room and perched herself on the entertainment center waiting for any sign that Sophie was regaining consciousness.

It was the feeling of another presence in the room that pulled Sophie from her fitful sleep. She wearily scanned the room, jumping as she saw the thief staring back at her.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed.

"When do we head out?" Parker asked calmly.

Sophie pushed herself up, leaning a still exhausted body against the headboard. "I thought I told you to go to bed?"

"I did." Parker replied assuredly. "I got some sleep, and then woke up, ate breakfast, and took a shower. When do we leave?"

"Breakfast? The restaurant doesn't open for another hour." Sophie referenced the Grille downstairs.

Parker shrugged her shoulders. "I brought cereal."

"Of course." Sophie rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Okay, fine. I'll contact Booth as soon as I'm out of the shower. In the meantime, can you see if there's some half-way decent tea in that arrangement over there? Something with caffeine."

Parker leafed through the contents of what she considered the hotels' 'coffee mini bar'. Each room came complete with coffee pot and mug as well as several options including tea, hot cocoa, and apple cider. Parker filled the water to be heated into the coffee pot stringing the English breakfast tea into the Styrofoam travel cup below. She was never much of a coffee/tea drinker herself, it made her too jittery, but had often gone through the ritual of starting a pot for her teammates. None of which were the morning people that she was.

While the shower ran, Parker checked her phone to see if she had received any updates from Hardison. She wasn't surprised to find nothing but spam ads on her email account. Part of her knew that the crew needed their sleep. She knew the effects of sleep deprivation, and as hard as it was to do nothing, they needed to stay smart in order to achieve their goal. If there was one thing she learned working with Nate it was that, 'stay smart, stay alive'. It was that mantra that brought her to Sophie's room instead of casing out the tunnels by herself.

Sophie returned from the shower in her bath robe and Parker handed her the tea.

"Cream and two sugars?" The grifter questioned.

"Just as you like it." Parker responded, having done this hundreds of times to get the team moving. "Can you call him now?"

Sophie looked over at the clock shaking her head hoping that the intrusion would be well received. "Sure, as soon as I…" She started looking over at the charger.

"Here." Parker stated handing over the phone.

Sophie dialed silently hoping that the agent was having just as much trouble sleeping as they were, and thereby not terribly inconvenienced by the early call. "Hello." He answered as she abandoned that hope.

"Agent Booth?"

"Sophie." He responded sounding more alert. He sat up on the mattress, looking over at the dozing anthropologist, before making his way into the restroom to avoid waking her up. "Did you have something?"

"No, no; I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep, and was hoping that maybe you would have heard something. I know it's early, I apologize."

"No, it's okay." He assured her. "I have trouble sleeping when I'm working a case as well. We have an agent tailing Chapman. He arrived home a couple hours ago; I'll be notified as soon as there's some kind of movement."

"What kind of car?" Sophie asked him.

"Nissan Altima coupe, silver." Booth answered. "Why?"

"License plate number?"

"XZ 5779. Why?" He asked again.

"Because I may know a way to keep a tail on him without him feeling like he's being followed."

"And ho… hacking into his navigation system." Booth answered his own question. "You can do that with a license plate?"

"I don't know." Sophie replied back honestly. "Doubt it. He probably needs some kind of VIN, but he's gotten more with less information."

Sophie wrote down the info for Parker to pass along to Hardison.

"Should I take my man off?" Booth questioned.

"No; not until I hear otherwise." Sophie directed.

"Okay, should we meet somewhere for breakfast and discuss strategy?" Booth suggested.

"No." Sophie answered. "Zarger now knows where Brennan is staying. It wouldn't surprise me if he's having her watched."

"What?!"

"It's fine." She assured him. "We would know by now if he suspected anything, but from here out we do need to be careful, there may be someone in his employ roaming the halls."

"Should you even be here?" Booth questioned the grifter's safety.

"I can blend in well enough." Sophie assured him. "And Parker can walk through walls. We'll be okay."

"What's the play?"

"We'll use the fact that she's being watched to our advantage. Joy Keenan and her bodyguard will have an early breakfast at the Grille when she gets a call from her partner. Ms. Keenan will very quietly discuss details of her meeting with Mr. Zarger to her partner and assure Mrs. Croix that appears they are making a solid investment."

"Then Bones will make the call to Zarger…?"

"No; no, I think we should allow Zarger to talk to the enigma himself. He'll receive a call from Mrs. Croix convincing him of our interest in the docks. He will collect a good faith payment of half a million if he is willing to provide Ms. Keenan's bodyguard a tour of the loading docks and underground storage facility."

"Nice plan, but he's not going to lead me straight to Spencer." Booth objected.

"No, but that's what we have Chapman for. Parker will follow him through what I am assuming is going to be the backdoor entrance. Once you're inside we can direct you to where he's being kept." Sophie explained.

"Okay, one more issue. They're not going to let me go in there with my gun."

"Well, if you're as good as you say you are you won't need one." Sophie lightheartedly challenged.

"Is that right?"

"Eliot wouldn't."

"Yeah, well, hand to hand Eliot was the best I've ever seen, and that was when he was eighteen-years-old." Booth replied. "I'm no slouch, but fist-to-cuffs against Eliot, I wouldn't stand a chance."

"That would only be an issue if you were going up against Eliot. Like you said, you're no slouch. Booth, I trust you, you can do this. Besides, you'll have Parker backing you up. She may not look like a whole lot, but she has more strength in her pinky than the ordinary guy has in their bicep, and she was trained by the best."

"Alright, let's get this thing started." He agreed.

"Booth, if I haven't said it enough, thank you for doing this. I know you didn't have to, and I do realize how much you are risking for this."

"It's my job…"

"No, it's not. Not the way we're doing it."

"Just promise me that I'm going to be able to secure a conviction after of all of this." Booth offered.

"You'll get the conviction." Sophie promised before disconnecting the line.

Parker looked over at Sophie approvingly. "Not bad. What's plan B?"

"What do you mean?" Sophie questioned.

"Isn't there always a plan B, you know, in case something doesn't go according to the original plan?" She asked, knowing that Nate usually had things plotted all the way down the alphabet.

"We're working with what we have." Sophie attempted to explain. "The situation is less than optimal, but if things go well you and Booth will each have an entrance to scout. You can figure out the exit strategy from there."

"Usually our exit strategy…"

"I know." Sophie cut her off. Once the cover was blown exit generally depended on Eliot busting heads on the way out. Unfortunately, with this case there was no way to get in and Eliot out without their cover being blown wide open. "This all depends on you and Booth being able to trust each other. If you can't, you have to tell me now."

"Do you trust him?" Parker questioned.

Sophie knew that was a loaded questioned. She had no doubts to the agent's intentions. Booth wanted this to end the same way they did, but she didn't have the same blind faith in him that she placed on their own hitter when it came to getting the deed done. She had to look away from Parker's desperate gaze to give her the guidance she was seeking. "I wouldn't send you in if I didn't."

XXXXXX

"Hey, you don't have to get up." Booth insisted as Brennan started to pull away the covers. He was putting his phone on the charger, standing near the entertainment center in his boxers

"It's fine, I'm awake." Brennan replied. She tended to not get a lot of sleep during the duration of a case especially one where there was a possibility the victim was alive. "Was that Sophie?" She asked receiving a nod in return. "What did she say?"

"We have some time to pull ourselves together before this thing starts." He replied. "Do you want to take the first shower?"

"No. You go ahead." Brennan replied. Things had gone well last night. Nothing happened in the sense of what an average person would call 'sleeping together' but it was the closest she felt to anyone in a long time, and there was something about that didn't sit right with her.

"Okay. Stay here. Sophie is convinced that Zarger is having you staked out." Booth instructed.

"Is that a problem?" Brennan asked tentatively.

"Not as long as we go according to plan." Booth responded and proceeded to give her the basics.

"That sounds risky." Brennan replied.

"Not for you." Booth responded. "Once I'm in Zarger's company I want you clear of this."

"Booth, I'm not going to leave you."

"Yes, you are. These men are dangerous, and if things don't go our way I don't want them to track you down."

"Booth…"

"We have one shot at this. As soon as I go for Spencer, our cover is blown. Please, Bones, get yourself out of dodge? Promise me!"

Brennan nodded her compliance. "But you need to make me a promise as well."

"What's that?"

"Don't get killed." She pleaded with him.

Booth chuckled. "Can I promise to try?"

"No." She replied simply.

"Okay, fine, I won't get killed." He promised before kissing her forehead and making his way back into the restroom.

She shook her head knowing it was a promise he couldn't be guaranteed to keep, but he would try his damned well hardest to try. As soon as he disappeared she made a phone call to Angela, if there was one person that she knew could help her make sense of what she was feeling it was her best friend.


	27. Chapter 27

"You know where you're going, right?" Sophie asked the thief as she handed over the ear bud.

Parker nodded, she was about ready to grab her gear and leave when stopped.

"Drive carefully!" Sophie warned her. "You need to remain inconspicuous."

The thief smiled before waving goodbye. She was rearing to get this over with, ready to skip to the part where Eliot was back safe and sound.

As soon as the door closed Sophie picked up the phone to call Nate. She knew they only had one shot at this, and needed his help squelching her doubts.

"Hello?" He answered gruffly on the second ring.

"Did I wake you?" She asked concerned.

"Only kind of." He answered from his seat at the desk. He looked over to find Hardison covered with a blanket curled up next to the stairwell neither managing to get somewhere comfortable before collapsing to exhaustion. "Has it started?"

"About to." She answered. "Did Hardison get the information Parker texted him?"

"Um, no… hang on." Nate held the conversation to throw a folder over at the sleeping hacker who jumped before mumbling obscenities. "We're on." Nate explained before turning his attention back to Sophie. "What do you need?"

"A Cosmo, or three." She replied sarcastically. "We have a plan to get in and, hopefully, Eliot out. I need your guys' help on the rest of it."

Nate listened to the plot she had worked out with the special agent, impressed with her ability to take on the role of the mastermind for this job. "That sounds doable." He encouraged.

"You sure it's not too complicated?"

"We knew this was going to be a difficult one." Nate assured. "Don't worry, you handle things on your end and we'll take care of the rest."

"After this, long vacation, lots of shopping?"

Nate chuckled at the request. "I think we might be able to manage that. Go on, do your thing. I'll have Hardison give Parker the information she needs."

"Thank you, Nate."

Nate ended the call silently thanking her for her efforts.

XXXXX

"Can I get you drinks to start off with?" The waitress asked Booth and Brennan after seating them at their table. "We have an early morning mimosa special."

"I'll just have coffee, thanks." Booth interjected.

"The same." Brennan confirmed.

"I'll be right back with those." The waitress assured.

They had come down from the room as the restaurant had opened. Booth had been hyper sensitive passing through the lobby, taking note of anyone that may be paying special attention to the couple.

"Do you think we're being watched?" Brennan whispered to the agent and he casually took inventory of those entering the establishment.

"Probably." He answered. He couldn't pinpoint the spectator. "Just act natural."

"Okay." She conceded. "What's natural for a criminal looking to arrange a contract with a prospective colleague?"

"How about we start with just figuring out what we want for breakfast?" He suggested opening the menu in front of him. They made awkward small talk throughout breakfast, ignoring all conversation involving them sleeping in the same bed as before as well as trying to steer clear from any talk of their current case. It was a sigh of relief when Brennan's phone rang for the call from Sophie.

"Ms. Keenan speaking." Brennan answered.

'Very good.' Sophie responded before giving instructions with how to proceed. Brennan played the part as she 'convinced' her 'partner' of the opportunities available to them through the New York waterfront.

"I'm sure that won't be a problem. Mr. Zarger seemed eager to get this thing going. Would you like me to call…?" Brennan responded to the grifter while Booth kept the suspected plant in his periphery. "No, you're right. I'm sure he would appreciate hearing directly from you."

After Brennan disconnected the call Booth pointed out Zarger's man who left his seat with a barely sipped mug of coffee abandoned on the table.

"Now what?" She whispered to Booth.

"We wait for the mark to call you to take me on the tour." Booth explained. "And you high tail it out of here."

"Yeah, that part I remember." She replied back sardonically.

Booth shook his head and returned his attention back to his food. He didn't care if she was furious about it as long as she did it. He noticed Bones picking at her plate. "You done with that?"

"Yeah, here." She pushed it away from her and picked up the check.

XXXXXX

After leaving a suitcase of cash in the agent's back seat Parker followed Hardison's directions to the home of her mark.

"Dammit, I hate New York drivers!" Parker cursed over the coms.

"Parker, calm down." Hardison advised. "And don't cut people off. You have to blend in."

"This is New York; that is blending in." Parker retorted.

"Yeah, well, just… don't!"

"Fine! I should probably park here anyway." She stated assuming that she was as close as she was going to get without Chapman spotting her.

Once parallel parked on the street Parker pulled out her headphones and dark blue hoody to disguise herself as a runner. She jogged up the street finding the Altima and circled the block until winding up on the same side on the street before disappearing under the car, hanging onto the frame. "I'm all set." She whispered. That gave Hardison the okay to call off the FBI.

"You be careful." Hardison cautioned. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of Parker hitching a ride under the car holding on by the strength of her own grip.

"Always am." She lied.

XXXXX

Brennan got off the phone with Zarger and walked with Booth to the lot. As the attendant pulled the car up, he checked the rental for any traces of a break-in after spotting the suitcase in the back.

"They're pros." Brennan shrugged as the attendant left to service the next customer.

"Yeah." The agent sighed. He opened the door and grabbed the case before handing her the keys. "The flight is booked; first class. You can print off the boarding pass from LGA."

"Booth, maybe…"

"No." He stopped her. "We have 20 minutes before Zarger shows up; I want you long gone."

She took the keys knowing he wasn't going to change his mind, and then pulled him in for a kiss that left him staggering back.

"Bones…"

"Don't get killed." She demanded and sat down into the driver's seat.

"Um… oh.. okay?" He got out before she shut the door and pulled out. He pushed all interpersonal thoughts out of his head as he headed back to the hotel to wait for his ride instead focusing on the fact that this 'crew' he was working with were pros as Bones had put it. As much as he may not approve of their methods, they worked, and plenty of bad guys were facing incarceration because of them.

"Mr. Stone." Zarger greeted Booth, inviting the agent into the limo. "The payment?"

Booth opened the suitcase for the mob boss to thumb through.

"I was hoping to catch a moment with Ms. Keenan before this matter was attended to."

"She was anticipating the same; unfortunately Ms. Croix required her assistance elsewhere. I hope this doesn't change your mind. She left me with the clear directive to settle the particulars. She's looking forward to the partnership."

"As am I." Zarger grinned. "Remarkable woman, that one."

"No argument here." Booth stated; looking away as the limo pulled out.

"Is there something going on between you and…?"

"No; no, of course not."

Zarger stared him down, unconvinced. "You care about her; protective of her…"

"It's my job to be protective of her."

"No… it's more than that."

"Well, like you said she's a remarkable woman. One that has a way of getting what she wants, and right now that's closing this deal."

"Right, all business then." Zarger took in Booth's body language. "As I explained to Ms. Keenan, this is a multifaceted business with a foothold in every major trade in this region, and it begins right here in the docks district."

"I have to admit, utilizing the underground system to your advantage, it is ingenious. You're idea?"

Zarger smiled to the compliment. "What do they say? Location, location, location. The streets may not paved with gold, as my grand pap was promised, but this region has been very prosperous for this family."


	28. Chapter 28

Parker grasped on to the pipes under the car, finding a place to slip her feet in order to anchor her into position. She had spent a lot of her adult life squeezing into tight quarters but nothing quite as reckless as this.

'Hey mama, can you see anything from there?' Hardison asked over the ear bud.

"Sure, the ankles of some guy walking his Cockapoo." Parker answered.

'Cockapoo? That can't be a real thing.' Hardison reacted, opening a new tab to look up the information himself.

"Are you kidding? They cross everything with the poodle. Worst is the Shit-poo." Parker smiled at the name.

'Actually that's the Shih-poo,' Nate cut into the conversation, "from Shih slash Tzu, the "T" is part of… oh, why are we even having this discussion? Parker, let us know when someone approaches the car.'

"You didn't have to jump in." Parker stated sarcastically under her breath.

Hearing the comment, Nate shook his head and smirked. Those two, the 'kids', could be downright infuriating at times with their lack of focus, but he couldn't help to think that this was less about inattention as it was need for distraction. 'How do you know about dog breeds anyway?'

Parker shrugged, forgetting that they couldn't actually see her. What she didn't want to say out loud was that she had done extensive research when living in the only house that ever truly felt like a home. There was a mom, dad, little brother, and they were talking about getting a puppy. Somehow that puppy was going to solidify the family dynamic, and she knew she had to pick out the right one; a puppy that was happy and liked kids, but smart enough to learn tricks, and know better than to destroy the house. "Picked it up." She stated instead. As she answered she saw a pair of high end Israeli Oxfords approaching the driver's door. "It's showtime." She whispered.

She braced herself as she felt the engine start up thankful that the amount of traffic would hopefully slow the car down enough that she wouldn't be attacked too badly by road rubble. She had just about had it with being pelted in the back with small rocks when the car came to a complete stop in the dock's district. She barely waited for it to be put into park before letting go of her grip and rolling out of the way. She crawled behind a nearby dumpster before getting up to take in her surroundings. Chapman was still sitting in the car and talking on his cell as she located the door that she assumed lead her into where she wanted to go. Luckily for her, since it led underground the structure had a low, accessible, roof.

"I got this." She insisted over the com, indicating that she had arrived at the destination.

'What are you looking at, Parker?' Nate inquired.

"No time." She replied before running out with the mobster's attention impeded and jumped the roof. She crouched down over doorway waiting for him to enter. She watched Chapman buzz himself in and held the rim with her upper body as she flipped over using her toe to keep the door from locking behind him.

'Parker?' Hardison asked in concern.

"I'm in." She whispered, giving him time to get a head start before opening the door behind him and following Chapman into the tunnels. She hid behind a corner as Chapman approached a guarded post.

"How's our guest doing?" Chapman asked the guard with a chuckle.

The muscle smiled in response. "I think he missed you."

"We can't have that." Chapman responded, about to make his way in but stopped with a hand to the chest by the guard.

"Boss wants this finished." He instructed.

"Why?" Chapman looked pissed. "We are just about to get to the hallucination phase."

"Something about a big business merger going on, wants the loose ends cleaned up."

"Shit!" Parker exclaimed over her com, before whispering. "Hardison, do you have my location?"

'Yeah, why?' He asked.

"Send Booth. This is going to get messy quickly."

'Parker, wait!' Nate ordered.

"I can't!" She replied before removing the Taser from its sheath.

XXXXX

"Where would you like to begin?" Zarger asked Booth as the driver let them out of the car.

"How about we start subterranean and make our way up from there?" Booth suggested.

"From the bottom up; I like your style, Stone." Zarger complimented the man and led him to the entrance.

The guard at post was staring the federal agent down as he approached. About the reach in for the search when Booth took a step back, his arms up in surrender.

"You understand…" Zarger started.

"I'll get it." Booth insured, digging into his holster to grab the unregistered handgun the thieves had given him for this very occasion, and patted himself down to demonstrate his cooperation. "That good?" He asked Zarger.

Zarger nodded to the guard to let the agent through. The main floor appeared to be a small warehouse office with crates full of their legit shipments. "Our driver comes out Tuesdays and Thursdays for distribution. Port Authority is permitted to do inspections as they deem necessary."

"Of anything in the warehouse, of course." Booth inferred.

"Of course." Zarger smiled before leading Booth to the "supply closet" door which opened to the staircase leading to the underground.

"Clever." Booth raised an eyebrow.

The boss led him through the abandoned subway system. "Our main storage facility is right through here." Zarger opened the office to a smaller version of the ground level warehouse with crates neatly stacked against the wall from Israel. "One of these goes out with every uninspected truck." He patted the stack and opened the case of TCI M89s.

"Looks like you're doing pretty well for yourself." Booth inspected the merchandise.

"We were. Without Moreau's funding it's hard to keep the supply up with the demand. Don't get me wrong, the finances are there…"

"You would just rather have a third party dealing with the purchase receipt." Booth understood. "Someone without the US Government looking for RICO violations."

"Which is where Mrs. Croix comes in. She helps me get the merchandise in, and I promise a profit for her investment."

'Hey Booth.' Sophie said over his com. 'I need you to get to Parker; now!'

"Now?" Booth asked out loud causing the mob boss to glance over.

'Now!' She repeated.

"Did you say something?" Zarger asked, taking a step closer to Booth. Booth swung his arm and connected his fist against the boss' cheek bone, knocking him out in the first blow before grabbing and loading one of the rifles.

"Where am I going?" Booth asked ready to go.

XXXXX

Sophie sat in the room long enough for Hardison to send her the papers necessary to grift her way onto the response team at Bellevue Hospital. Parker was right about needing some kind of escape plan, and the one thing they were all sure about is that Eliot was going to require immediate medical attention if he was going to come out of this alive. She had flagged down a taxi and it had barely pulled into when instructed by Nate to direct Booth to Parker's location. She gave the driver a $50 and directed him to stay on idle as she pulled out the lap top for directions.


	29. Chapter 29

Aaron Champan strode towards the hitter with a triumphant grin. During the night the guards had released the chains enough to allow Eliot to slump against the wall on bended knees. The position left him vulnerable, but was a mercy given the fact that he was no longer able to stand under his own steam.

"Rise and shine, princess." The man greeted him.

Eliot lifted his eyelid long enough to assure the rival that he was still lucid.

"Bad news, Spencer. It seems the boss man is putting an end to this little experiment." He stated pulling out his hand gun. Eliot watched as he loaded it with a single bullet. "So instead we're going to play a little game. You pride yourself on being the protector, right?"

The hitter simply glared back waiting for the catch.

"I'll give you the opportunity to save that little family of yours, one name at a time. Any one of them not identified before this bullet discharges into your skull will meet the same fate. So, who do you care about the most?" Chapman asked as he spun the barrel. "You only get one for free."

"You're not getting to any of them." Eliot choked out.

"You're not exactly in a position to stop me." Chapman bent down to eye level and positioned the gun into his temple. "Now you got one chance to save that team of yours; the offer expires in 5…4…3…2…"

"Hardison." Eliot called out before the trigger was pressed. He clenched every muscle in his body awaiting the impact that didn't come.

"The geek boy, huh? Didn't think you swung that way." Chapman chuckled. "Okay, who's your second pick?"

The process of choosing between teammates had nothing to do with whom he cared about more. He couldn't; there was no one he cared more about than any of the others, no one that he could stand sacrificing. However, realistically when placed in this exact same situation there were those that could survive longer than others, those that would have the better chance to get out of this situation with their life.

"Hey…" Chapman tapped his cheek. "No dozing off on me now. Who's it going to be? The perky little thief, enchantingly gorgeous grifter, or the big boss man himself?"

Eliot looked up, pretty sure that he was hallucinating as he saw that perky little thief straddling the pipes that his chains were hanging from. She was working the lock that held impeded his ability to bend his elbows over his head more than a couple inches.

"It's now or never." Chapman encouraged as his finger began to press down on the trigger.

"Sophie." He stated before the firearm unsuccessfully discharged.

"Nice, I had different plans for her, anyway." Chapman smiled. "Lucky you, 50% there."

As Chapman spoke Eliot felt the tension in his arms slack.

"Who's it going to be, next? Nate or Parker?" He asked, again, alerting Eliot of the time limit by pressing his finger over the trigger.

In an act of desperation Eliot swung his right elbow down and knocking Chapman's arm forward as the gun went off, the bullet flying past his face by mere inches. With the freedom of movement established Eliot elbowed the bastard on the bridge of his nose knocking him backwards and spilling blood down his front. There were three thugs in the room momentarily stunned by the act of aggression.

Parker flipped down from the pipes with her taser drawn. The first thug charged at her as two other lunged toward Eliot as he griped at his chains using them to help him to his feet. Once standing Eliot kicked the first goon in the stomach and quickly wrapped the chain around his neck as he bent over. Eliot guided the goon in front of him and used him as a shield for the assault he knew would be coming from Yosef.

As soon as the taser knocked down her attacker, Parker positioned herself behind the 6'4" monster that stood before the injured hitter intent on taking him out seemingly unphased by the fact that his associate was being choked out in front of him. She pressed the taser against his spine causing him to collapse to one knee as he continued his assault towards his target, who continued to defend himself with the make-shift shield. It took another jolt before he collapsed to the floor unconscious. Eliot realized the now unconscious shield and staggered forward, dropping into Parker's arms.

Unable to take on his full weight she lowered him onto the floor, resting his head on her leg, and took out her lock picks.

"Parker…?" He rasped out, barely conscious.

"Yeah, it's me." She ran her hand through his sweat filled and bloodied hair. "Just hang on, okay?"

"More guards… coming." Eliot warned. He knew that it was only a matter of seconds before the commotion would alert others to check out the situation.

"I know. It's okay." He assured him as she worked on the first wrist clasp. Moments later she heard three gun shots just as the entrance started to crack open. The weight of a guard falling against it caused the door to swing open and guards toppled into the room. She continued working, freeing the hitter from his chains as Booth stepped over the pile of guards. He took inventory of the room before making his way over.

Booth looked at his friend for the first time almost 20 years, and never before had he seen him this beaten and broken. Eliot's skin was pasty white and heat was radiating off him in waves. Yet somehow, through all of that, he was conscious, barely, but enough.

"Spencer?" He attempted to get his attention.

Eliot allowed his lids to open slightly seeing the outline of a familiar face.

"Long time, no see." Booth greeted his friend.

It didn't take the hitter long to place the voice. "Didn't imagine you'd be greetin' me at the pearly gates." He coughed out.

"You really presumptuous enough to think you made it into heaven?" Booth teased him.

"No; but you would, good ol' catholic boy."

Booth wasn't entirely sure about that either, especially after taking out three guards in the hallway without flinching. He knew they were running out of time as Eliot spluttered out blood as he coughed. "Hate to rush through the niceties of this reunion, but you really will be visiting those pearly gates if I don't get you out of here."

Eliot knew what Booth was asking, and as much as he despised the idea of being carried out he knew he wasn't making it out any other way. Eliot nodded his consent lifting his head enough for Booth to get an arm underneath before grasping under his knees. Parker grabbed Chapman's handgun and filled the barrel. She wasn't strong enough to carry the hitter, but the least she could do is cover the person that could.

"This way." She nodded towards the direction of the back entrance and lead the way out.


	30. Chapter 30

"Booth!" Brennan ran down the hallway of the hospital to greet him. He was seated alone in the ER waiting room awaiting any kind of update.

Booth stood to invite her into a hug. "You promised to get out of here." He whispered to her before releasing the grasp.

"I lied." She stated, sitting down next to him.

"You lied? _You_?" He questioned. For her it wasn't a matter of morality, in more cases than not the act of lying had no logical justification and therefore an ineffective method of communication. It was he, with the help of Dr. Sweets, that taught her that lies could, should even, be used to spare the feelings of a loved one. It was often the case in lieu of revealing the sorted details of a victim's death.

"I couldn't leave you alone, not now. And knowing you, the thought of me being here would prevent you from focusing on what you had to do. So yes, I lied." She threaded his fingered between his.

"But Zarger, if he found you…"

"The escape plan was all predicated on the assumption that you failed, Booth. I couldn't believe that. Let me ask you this, where is Zarger now?"

"He's being detained." Booth answered sullenly. Sophie had shown up driving the ambulance just moments after reaching topside, with the local police trailing closely behind. Booth flashed his FBI badge and gave a summation of what was going on directing the NYPD to take all survivors into custody until the feds arrived.

"How is he?"

Booth shrugged. "He lost consciousness on the ride. Infection had set in, extreme blood loss, internal bleeding." He started spitting out phrases that the EMTs used to describe his condition.

"But alive." She replied back optimistically.

He nodded. "Alive."

"Where is everyone?"

"Um… Sophie said something about settling her cover, and Parker had one more job to take care of. Nate and Hardison are on route here." He answered. "I, um… talked to Cam. She is releasing Horvat's identity to Hacker now. Should he agree to pursue this, the whole operation will be torn apart."

"He is going to be angry." Brennan commented. Andrew Hacker was the Assistant Director of the FBI who spent the last year in a casual relationship with Dr. Brennan.

Booth snickered. "He is going to be pissed, but once he realizes that he can take credit for bringing down the New York chapter of the Israeli mob, he should go along with it."

"What should I say when asked why I falsified the identification?"

"We tell them that I was in private correspondence with Mr. Lucien Horvat when he turned up dead. Horvat was collecting information about his boss to help build the case against him. When his remains turned up at the Marcus Carter crime scene it was the FBI that instructed you to cover the identity in order to infiltrate the organization to reveal the information that Horvat died to obtain." Booth relayed the story that Nate had sold to him, and that Cam was relaying to Hacker. "Caroline is issuing a warrant now to have Horvat's place searched."

"What are they going to find?"

"I don't know." Booth answered, but he had to figure that might be where the thief had headed in such a hurry. Everything that Hardison had uncovered about Kavod Ltd. was done so illegally, if that information was found instead on the laptop of a cooperating witness by means of a legally issued warrant there's no way it couldn't be held up in a court of law.

"So, it's done then?"

"Yeah, we got our bad guy." It should make him feel happy. Any other case and he and Brennan would be sitting at the bar with a celebratory drink in hand.

A doctor came into the room wearing a grave expression. "Agent Booth?"

Booth stood from his chair as the doctor approached grasping Brennan's hand tightly. "How is he?"

"As you can imagine his condition is critical. We've stabilized his blood pressure and started him on a broad-spectrum antibiotic to fight the infection. His injuries are extensive." The doctor detailed the list stating that beyond the initial gunshot wound he had suffered a grade 3 concussion, fractured ribs that were putting pressure on his lungs requiring a ventilator to assist his breathing, two dislocated shoulders with extensive damage to the ligament requiring surgery to correct, and bruised kidneys in current risk of failure.

Booth swallowed the lump in his throat. "What now?"

"Most pressingly I need to reopen and drain the wound. Unfortunately this would mean putting him under sedation and in his current condition there's the chance he will not wake if I do." The doctor explained sparing the statistics, since the probability of survival without out it was negligible. "As his current medical proxy I require your permission to proceed."

Booth nodded. "Can I, um… can I see him first?"

"He's unresponsive, but I suppose you can sit with him while we are clearing out the OR." The doctor ordered a nurse to show him down the hall while Brennan waited for him in the lobby.

The machines surrounding Spencer were intimidating and made the larger than life hitter appear tiny. He sat down next to his friend and grasped his hand, hoping not to cause further injury. Booth wasn't sure what to say, expect 'fight'. The one thing that Eliot knew how to do better than anyone else, and now he needed to do that, not for himself, not for Booth, but for Parker and Hardison, Sophie and Nate. His family that loved and relied on him, that went into this case with one objective, and that was to keep him alive. All the planning and deception, the risk of going undercover, it was all for that single purpose. He had made it this far; he couldn't give up now.

It wasn't long before the medical team arrived to move him into the operating room, and Booth returned to his partner. Brennan was finishing her call with Nate who assured her he would be arriving within the hour.

"I'm glad you stayed." Booth finally told her.

"You're not mad?"

He smiled. Had things gone differently he would have been. "No, not mad."

Brennan gaze retreated from his to down the hall as she spotted Parker leaving the elevator. She waved the girl over.

"Have you heard anything?" Parker asked as soon as she was within talking range. She knew Sophie would be arriving shortly but didn't want to wait.

Booth gave the full report, feeling that, unlike Brennan, he could explain it in a way that the girl would understand. Which boiled down to her as meaning 'very, very, hurt'.

"We knew it was going to be bad." Parker offered in response, fighting off tears forming under the surface.

"We did." Booth agreed. "And we got him to the help he needed."

"He's going to be fine." She whispered. Her mantra since the ordeal started. Neither had the heart to disagree.

"Of course he is." Sophie stated from behind them after coming directly from the ambulance bay. She had already gotten the details from the med staff, and was hanging on to the same glimmer of hope the thief was. It was bad, but Eliot had survived through much in his lifetime and he had good reason to fight.

It wasn't long before Hardison and Nate joined the group in the lobby with no real explanation of how they made it to New York City in the time they did. After hugs were exchanged they all sat silently and watched the clock on the wall tick with baited breath for news behind the emergency room door.

Xxxxxx

To be continued….


End file.
